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Super Smash Bros.

from Lost by BK James

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lyrics

Blitzed out the gate with a blunt on deck
Spitting razor blades
And blunt objects
Came from waste
Waded through hate
I'm a slave to bad taste
And it's way too late
What'd you expect?
I suspect your next
Don't look perplexed
I'm only on point cuz I took my meds
Ain't it good to feel fed?
I bet you'd suspend your respect
For a treat and a pat on the head
On a leash, being led
I never followed no leader
Which made me a stranger
With a broken sobriety meter
I don't feel safe unless I'm in danger
I smoke eights for no reason
Evoke White Jesus, no manger
Straight out the aether
I did the math and
Found no remainder
No time for whiny rigid rhyme schemes
I keep 6 sixteens in the chamber
And I'm slightly slimy
Highly grimy
Don't make me lash out in anger cuz I'm mean
Blimey
I mean I'm colder than some fuckin' ice cream
Smokin' out that pipe dream
Bitch you could get this
Instant gratification on ya death wish
Whenever I spit I inflict
Agony on the murder rate
I don't even have to spit
One bar to kill half of these invertebrates

You gon' learn today
I be sittin' on the couch
Fuck what ya earned today
I got way too much pot to burn away
I'm way too hot, you couldn't burn BK
I laugh out loud when your loved ones pass away
"Slipaway" on my resume
I sunbathe in gamma radiation
Rap game abomination
Dominating every conversation I participate in
Still haven't met a white bitch I wouldn't stick my dick in
Bad reputation but I brush off criticism
Cuz I'm thick skinned
If I lost an eye I'd be Snake Pliskin
The last thing I ever wanna be is a good Christian
And this beat's a very generous lover
In the streets I'm the next Crispin Glover
But in the butt I'm Brando
"Get the butter"
Goin' commando, not even a rubber
I might get smashed and smash your bubbler
I might get smashed and smash your mother
and let all my homies hit it like we super smash brothers

I might get smashed and smash your bubbler
I might get smashed and smash your mother
and let all my homies hit it like we super smash brothers

Chillin' wit my girl Samus
The world is my canvas
It's outlandish how
These lyrics deserve to be in religious pamphlets
Hit 'em wit the up-B, stomped a praying mantis
Hollered where the ass at
Bitch turned around
And the thing was mad fat
Conducted some fucked up stuff
Put a gun to your dad's dome
Said "where the cash at?"
He was talkin' shit
So I sealed my plantains with a chip clip
And filled that bitch with a banana clip
Now I'm headed to the mall
I'm a clap santa quick
Fat nigga know I been naughty
If I ain't the best I aught to be
Cuz I slaughtered mad niggas
And mad niggas wanna slaughter me
Street philosophy
I been got my degree
So tell ya mom to lay that diseased
Pussy right on me

credits

from Lost, released November 16, 2014
produced by Laidback Meech

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BK James New Paltz, New York

BK James is the infamous co-founder of Three Penis Productions, an experimental music label, and has been steadily releasing music since a handful of BK & KGC songs appeared on Youtube in 2010. For more from BK, check out:

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