It feels kinda weird to be jumpin' back in the shit, happily sick
From the crap that I kick, not lackin' a bit
When I'm packing a fifth, with a half of a zip
I get blasted now I'm ready to snap on a bitch
Like a dog in heat, I'm floggin' beats
Bring any motherf*cker up against me, I'll send 'em back to the pits
Okay here we go again another chopper
This motherf*cker needs to be picked apart by Joe Budden
Hotter, shit you wouldn't find in my part of town, partner
Pardon my drawl it's awful, it's locked in my jaws like the part of
Your car that got carnage, after you blew that light in your light blue Dodge Dart
And, I'm officially done with puttin' out garbage
All I'mma do is keep it hard and keep payin' homage
So, do you see the difference between me and you, you being you?
Probably not, but if you can't see the proof, and the block is hot
Go stand your ass on the corner and get Molly whopped
So f*ckin' hard the dude that hit you gonna need Tommy John's
I be on, Molly, ganja, Vyvanse to the point of insomnia
Seven tabs got me seein' polygons, what's goin' on with my body?
I'm outta body but somehow still body 'em
I'll stand my ass in the street and rap like boombox Ronnie, yeah
From Kalamazoo on through to Pontiac, this is a Michigan conglomerate
But the west side has been as dormant as a former racist who says he's now tolerant
That f*cker can sit and spin on a mound of dicks
Someone should pound his dick, in the dirt
Like the feet on a man who power lifts
How is this, flow the opposite of counterfeit?
Well it's 15 years in the making go and count 'em bitch, and I'm bound to get
Shitty hit a gritty, witty wit the rhythm biddies
Get the P like Diddy, gimme itty bitty titties, is what I'll never say
But I might say give me head today
Hawk tuah
You gon' hop to it, stop droolin', you a sharpshooter
You mark food and then you chop wood you're
Either a lumberjack or a scout who's addicted to dick
Like someone let Lynne out the house you's a, clout looter
I'm about to kick you out my house sooner
You can pout
You could shout
Stupid shit, loud
You could, tell the town who's the
Greatest to ever grace the airwaves
I made some headway, in today's day and age anything is fair play
Yeah right, I'mma say some shit that'll make you wanna tear out my larynx
At dinner, pair it with a pair of drinks
Kill a Bill and put a rope around my neck like David Carradine
Me gettin' big is a scary scene, but what you've seen is just barely me
Allow me to take your deeper into the rarely seen
I'mma shake shit up, flip it up and down like Dairy Queen, very mean
I'm thinkin' y'all are the target
And bitch
I'm the kerosene
Benjamin Regan - Kerosene Lyrics
Benjamin Regan - Kerosene Lyrics
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English
It feels kinda weird to be jumpin' back in the shit, happily sick
From the crap that I kick, not lackin' a bit
When I'm packing a fifth, with a half of a zip
I get blasted now I'm ready to snap on a bitch
Like a dog in heat, I'm floggin' beats
Bring any motherf*cker up against me, I'll send 'em back to the pits
Okay here we go again another chopper
This motherf*cker needs to be picked apart by Joe Budden
Hotter, shit you wouldn't find in my part of town, partner
Pardon my drawl it's awful, it's locked in my jaws like the part of
Your car that got carnage, after you blew that light in your light blue Dodge Dart
And, I'm officially done with puttin' out garbage
All I'mma do is keep it hard and keep payin' homage
So, do you see the difference between me and you, you being you?
Probably not, but if you can't see the proof, and the block is hot
Go stand your ass on the corner and get Molly whopped
So f*ckin' hard the dude that hit you gonna need Tommy John's
I be on, Molly, ganja, Vyvanse to the point of insomnia
Seven tabs got me seein' polygons, what's goin' on with my body?
I'm outta body but somehow still body 'em
I'll stand my ass in the street and rap like boombox Ronnie, yeah
From Kalamazoo on through to Pontiac, this is a Michigan conglomerate
But the west side has been as dormant as a former racist who says he's now tolerant
That f*cker can sit and spin on a mound of dicks
Someone should pound his dick, in the dirt
Like the feet on a man who power lifts
How is this, flow the opposite of counterfeit?
Well it's 15 years in the making go and count 'em bitch, and I'm bound to get
Shitty hit a gritty, witty wit the rhythm biddies
Get the P like Diddy, gimme itty bitty titties, is what I'll never say
But I might say give me head today
Hawk tuah
You gon' hop to it, stop droolin', you a sharpshooter
You mark food and then you chop wood you're
Either a lumberjack or a scout who's addicted to dick
Like someone let Lynne out the house you's a, clout looter
I'm about to kick you out my house sooner
You can pout
You could shout
Stupid shit, loud
You could, tell the town who's the
Greatest to ever grace the airwaves
I made some headway, in today's day and age anything is fair play
Yeah right, I'mma say some shit that'll make you wanna tear out my larynx
At dinner, pair it with a pair of drinks
Kill a Bill and put a rope around my neck like David Carradine
Me gettin' big is a scary scene, but what you've seen is just barely me
Allow me to take your deeper into the rarely seen
I'mma shake shit up, flip it up and down like Dairy Queen, very mean
I'm thinkin' y'all are the target
And bitch
I'm the kerosene
From the crap that I kick, not lackin' a bit
When I'm packing a fifth, with a half of a zip
I get blasted now I'm ready to snap on a bitch
Like a dog in heat, I'm floggin' beats
Bring any motherf*cker up against me, I'll send 'em back to the pits
Okay here we go again another chopper
This motherf*cker needs to be picked apart by Joe Budden
Hotter, shit you wouldn't find in my part of town, partner
Pardon my drawl it's awful, it's locked in my jaws like the part of
Your car that got carnage, after you blew that light in your light blue Dodge Dart
And, I'm officially done with puttin' out garbage
All I'mma do is keep it hard and keep payin' homage
So, do you see the difference between me and you, you being you?
Probably not, but if you can't see the proof, and the block is hot
Go stand your ass on the corner and get Molly whopped
So f*ckin' hard the dude that hit you gonna need Tommy John's
I be on, Molly, ganja, Vyvanse to the point of insomnia
Seven tabs got me seein' polygons, what's goin' on with my body?
I'm outta body but somehow still body 'em
I'll stand my ass in the street and rap like boombox Ronnie, yeah
From Kalamazoo on through to Pontiac, this is a Michigan conglomerate
But the west side has been as dormant as a former racist who says he's now tolerant
That f*cker can sit and spin on a mound of dicks
Someone should pound his dick, in the dirt
Like the feet on a man who power lifts
How is this, flow the opposite of counterfeit?
Well it's 15 years in the making go and count 'em bitch, and I'm bound to get
Shitty hit a gritty, witty wit the rhythm biddies
Get the P like Diddy, gimme itty bitty titties, is what I'll never say
But I might say give me head today
Hawk tuah
You gon' hop to it, stop droolin', you a sharpshooter
You mark food and then you chop wood you're
Either a lumberjack or a scout who's addicted to dick
Like someone let Lynne out the house you's a, clout looter
I'm about to kick you out my house sooner
You can pout
You could shout
Stupid shit, loud
You could, tell the town who's the
Greatest to ever grace the airwaves
I made some headway, in today's day and age anything is fair play
Yeah right, I'mma say some shit that'll make you wanna tear out my larynx
At dinner, pair it with a pair of drinks
Kill a Bill and put a rope around my neck like David Carradine
Me gettin' big is a scary scene, but what you've seen is just barely me
Allow me to take your deeper into the rarely seen
I'mma shake shit up, flip it up and down like Dairy Queen, very mean
I'm thinkin' y'all are the target
And bitch
I'm the kerosene
Writer: Tyler Regan
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid