Coup De Grâce Remix by 4Fins Lyrics
[Chorus: Johniepee]
Yeah
Coup de grâce, coup de grâce
Anyone can get it, I don't care who you are
No
Coup de grâce, coup de grâce
I don't give a fuck who you are
[Verse 1: Johniepee]
Yeah
A bigger version of Jemaine from the Conchords
Chillin’, but if you want war
Me and the three Fins bumping the Funkoars at your front door
What I want is rolling up on rappers, smoke ‘em - call it blunt force
Brain stays sharp, why the fuck would I need a blunt for? (Woo!)
See all my stoner homies say they got the coup de grass
Getting high to find a word that rhymes with coup de grace
Scribblin’ til the pen splits
Jugglin’ music, cuties and moving until my debt lifts
All while doing deadlifts
Write bars on the the benchpress, all fit - Tetris
I’m sharp, never rusty, but you’ll get tetanus
Try to run with us you’ll end with all split tendons
And you’ve got no balls like you’re playing shit tennis
That’s no game
Like you pop viagra with your rogaine
Arya Stark with the bars in the dark
Man you’ve got no name - who?
I’m the type to make a buzz without the cocaine
But when I load the pen I blow their minds again like Cobain
Gone!
[Chorus: Mini Coop]
Yeah, ayy
Coup de grâce, coup de grâce
What kind of idiot would name himself after the car?
(Haha)
Coup de grâce, coup de grâce
Man I don't give a fuck who you are
[Verse 2: Mini Coop]
It’s funny how the ones that say you’re never going places, never show their faces
Careers at a stand still, basically in stasis
You ain’t a step behind me kid, more like twenty paces
With two broken ankles in heavy trainers with metal laces
Fans wanting my shine, I’m back to son hippies
Know the Art of War, I’ve got the smarts to run cities
Girls I’ve never met before saying they in love with me
Fan or one night stand - you don’t have to know me to fuck with me!
I see these rugrats pushing thug rap
Punch right out your speaker, get you slumped back
All these rappers mad they supported me, now tryna get their love back
Got ‘em seeing red like a blood bank
Homie you can Twitter til your thumbs crack
Looking for my come back?
Ask your girl, I left it where her tongue’s at
All these fuckin’ lost boys thinkin’ that they fly, then off the roof they go
They Rufio for tryna catch a Hook - you better run, Jack!
[Chorus: Joey Maker]
Yeah
Coup de grâce, coup de grâce
Anyone can get it, I don't care who you are
Coup de grâce, coup de grâce
I don't give a fuck who you are
[Verse 3: Joey Maker]
Ayy
Hitchhiking in on Mini Coop’s shooting star
Keys to the Tardis, parachute into a moving car
Doing lines with Dr Who inside a Hooters bar
Ringin’ JFK and tell him “we know who the shooters are!”
She be screaming for the cream, no Abdul Jabbar
Kick Aladdin out the palace, I’m the new Jaffar
Throw your daddy out the family, this a coup d’etat
Blow your mum some kisses, I’ma show her where my cooties are
Tesla when I’m barrin’ that meanin’ I’m supercharged
Made it to the finals, we ringin’ like huge alarms
Went to Billy Clinton’s to borrow a new cigar
Gave your girl a little taste and her lips they just flew apart
Coldest flow got you thinkin’ I knew the Starks
Synonym for my dinner, you little fish to a shark
Choose the mark, fuck ‘em I do it fast
I Phantom Assassin grab ‘em and finish ‘em - coup de grâce
[Verse 4: Clue]
Feelin’ like a better me!
Got me doing things incredibly
Loading up Clue into 2K17
Rap game attributes higher than you’ve ever seen
Leveled up to 99, mod chip
Could never be fucked with
As a kid, so adult me’s unstoppable
The type to find a hater, stuff their pillow with a bottle rocket
I’ll be honest - poor as fuck, looking out to make a profit
Save a dollar, waiting at the shops, I’ll grab your shop-a-docket
Mad as the Hatter
My plan is to grab a spatula
Flipping off all these amateurs
Watch as they taking damages
Actually, we stack it up, in the club we making sandwiches
School ‘em to our advantages
Fuck it, I’m Billy Madison
Pad and pen at the ready
Just grab a hold of your bandages
Wrap it up - fuck it, you’re dealing with four savages
Anybody talking cute or thinking they’re more talented’s lying
Got a GPS, address you for the hell of it
So fuck all these others, the rest of you want the truth
That I ain’t stoppin’ til they’re saying that Seth is sounding like Clue
And this for those who wonder who’s blowing up, going nuclear
The truth is up - ain’t no coup de grâce, more like Clue da star
Yeah
Coup de grâce, coup de grâce
Anyone can get it, I don't care who you are
No
Coup de grâce, coup de grâce
I don't give a fuck who you are
[Verse 1: Johniepee]
Yeah
A bigger version of Jemaine from the Conchords
Chillin’, but if you want war
Me and the three Fins bumping the Funkoars at your front door
What I want is rolling up on rappers, smoke ‘em - call it blunt force
Brain stays sharp, why the fuck would I need a blunt for? (Woo!)
See all my stoner homies say they got the coup de grass
Getting high to find a word that rhymes with coup de grace
Scribblin’ til the pen splits
Jugglin’ music, cuties and moving until my debt lifts
All while doing deadlifts
Write bars on the the benchpress, all fit - Tetris
I’m sharp, never rusty, but you’ll get tetanus
Try to run with us you’ll end with all split tendons
And you’ve got no balls like you’re playing shit tennis
That’s no game
Like you pop viagra with your rogaine
Arya Stark with the bars in the dark
Man you’ve got no name - who?
I’m the type to make a buzz without the cocaine
But when I load the pen I blow their minds again like Cobain
Gone!
[Chorus: Mini Coop]
Yeah, ayy
Coup de grâce, coup de grâce
What kind of idiot would name himself after the car?
(Haha)
Coup de grâce, coup de grâce
Man I don't give a fuck who you are
[Verse 2: Mini Coop]
It’s funny how the ones that say you’re never going places, never show their faces
Careers at a stand still, basically in stasis
You ain’t a step behind me kid, more like twenty paces
With two broken ankles in heavy trainers with metal laces
Fans wanting my shine, I’m back to son hippies
Know the Art of War, I’ve got the smarts to run cities
Girls I’ve never met before saying they in love with me
Fan or one night stand - you don’t have to know me to fuck with me!
I see these rugrats pushing thug rap
Punch right out your speaker, get you slumped back
All these rappers mad they supported me, now tryna get their love back
Got ‘em seeing red like a blood bank
Homie you can Twitter til your thumbs crack
Looking for my come back?
Ask your girl, I left it where her tongue’s at
All these fuckin’ lost boys thinkin’ that they fly, then off the roof they go
They Rufio for tryna catch a Hook - you better run, Jack!
[Chorus: Joey Maker]
Yeah
Coup de grâce, coup de grâce
Anyone can get it, I don't care who you are
Coup de grâce, coup de grâce
I don't give a fuck who you are
[Verse 3: Joey Maker]
Ayy
Hitchhiking in on Mini Coop’s shooting star
Keys to the Tardis, parachute into a moving car
Doing lines with Dr Who inside a Hooters bar
Ringin’ JFK and tell him “we know who the shooters are!”
She be screaming for the cream, no Abdul Jabbar
Kick Aladdin out the palace, I’m the new Jaffar
Throw your daddy out the family, this a coup d’etat
Blow your mum some kisses, I’ma show her where my cooties are
Tesla when I’m barrin’ that meanin’ I’m supercharged
Made it to the finals, we ringin’ like huge alarms
Went to Billy Clinton’s to borrow a new cigar
Gave your girl a little taste and her lips they just flew apart
Coldest flow got you thinkin’ I knew the Starks
Synonym for my dinner, you little fish to a shark
Choose the mark, fuck ‘em I do it fast
I Phantom Assassin grab ‘em and finish ‘em - coup de grâce
[Verse 4: Clue]
Feelin’ like a better me!
Got me doing things incredibly
Loading up Clue into 2K17
Rap game attributes higher than you’ve ever seen
Leveled up to 99, mod chip
Could never be fucked with
As a kid, so adult me’s unstoppable
The type to find a hater, stuff their pillow with a bottle rocket
I’ll be honest - poor as fuck, looking out to make a profit
Save a dollar, waiting at the shops, I’ll grab your shop-a-docket
Mad as the Hatter
My plan is to grab a spatula
Flipping off all these amateurs
Watch as they taking damages
Actually, we stack it up, in the club we making sandwiches
School ‘em to our advantages
Fuck it, I’m Billy Madison
Pad and pen at the ready
Just grab a hold of your bandages
Wrap it up - fuck it, you’re dealing with four savages
Anybody talking cute or thinking they’re more talented’s lying
Got a GPS, address you for the hell of it
So fuck all these others, the rest of you want the truth
That I ain’t stoppin’ til they’re saying that Seth is sounding like Clue
And this for those who wonder who’s blowing up, going nuclear
The truth is up - ain’t no coup de grâce, more like Clue da star