Youll find myself by B00bjob Lyrics
[Intro]
Bong until you think this song a mother fucking flamer, mane
Seriously mane
Just catch me doin' idk something very Jerry, George, Elaine and Mother fuckin' Kramer, mane
Ya feel?
Hahahaha
[Verse 1: b00bjob]
Yo, I'm still new to this
I still wish you blew a kiss every time I came through with new truths to spit
Yo, b00bs is lit
Me as well as the boobs on your newest chick, or dude
'cause bro, who’s to pick? Yo
And why you think the looser the unit is
The fewer the ticks in that losers wit?
Yet still dudes hit the pics that blew up that users click through thing
Man, I’m boozed as shit
Not snoozed and shit
This for the smokers and the oops, I took to twitter with the Ps4emoji movie, Woopie Goldie only at tones in 2002 and shit
I think I'ma need a noose to, ah, hang my old music with
And my new music with
I guess my music shit
'Cause it’s all about the meme money now, bro
The 'Fred Durst: Gender Theorist' post on my iPhone
Clap if you feel like your whole life a lie though
I'm in line for the wine
Yeah, I meet you inside
Sister, brother, son, daughter, father, mother, fuck a rap line
Hyper flex
Snipin' feds while I cyber sex
Wipin' the mic on they neck and
Hyphy too much
And then Mikey forget, though
Lately the goal been to tighten the set the set, though
My vision burn bright like
The light on a bike
Or the cyclist head
The flow was too nice
Time to Michael it then
With the most gross gape flavoured vapour quotes yet
Kept it seven hundred for the best of fake or ageing folks
Guess my head is heavy, step inside and then away it floats
Kept the stress at bay
At most for like, a day, at best
I'm dressin' sorta not unlike I have no sense in how to stay awoke
But you can say I'm lame or gay
Just let me know how you portray a bloke
Whale scales couldn't even weigh my notes
Radio play aid my hopes that I could maybe even make it though
I think to myself, as i suck a Yoplait tub and throw away container whoa
Whoa
Whoa
Whoa
Gosh darn, I'm a mother fuckin' label, bro
I'm a fuckin' piece of danger, bro
Me and Vaw and Tulett thats a fuckin' team of angels, bro
Ain't no range we can't acclaim to, bro
I hit the line and use the flame to torch some fuckin' papers, bro
I spit my mind and cop 200 hundred fuckin' likes on Facebook, bro
Wait, No
Wait, No no no no
You see, all friends, no scum bags
Maybe only ever sniffed, like, one dumb bag, one time
Shout out to all comrade’s cum rags, it’s rum time
Get, like, busy off a few plum wines
Y'all so dizzy off the new dumb rhymes
Old but still impressive like a 3-0 to nose bluntslide, in Yeah Right
That's a shout to Eric Koston, it's still tight
And yeah, its still Mike
All power, no agility, Raichu
I think I'm done doubting my ability, Michael
Michael, Michael
Michael, Michael
Michael
Michael
Michael
Michael
Bong until you think this song a mother fucking flamer, mane
Seriously mane
Just catch me doin' idk something very Jerry, George, Elaine and Mother fuckin' Kramer, mane
Ya feel?
Hahahaha
[Verse 1: b00bjob]
Yo, I'm still new to this
I still wish you blew a kiss every time I came through with new truths to spit
Yo, b00bs is lit
Me as well as the boobs on your newest chick, or dude
'cause bro, who’s to pick? Yo
And why you think the looser the unit is
The fewer the ticks in that losers wit?
Yet still dudes hit the pics that blew up that users click through thing
Man, I’m boozed as shit
Not snoozed and shit
This for the smokers and the oops, I took to twitter with the Ps4emoji movie, Woopie Goldie only at tones in 2002 and shit
I think I'ma need a noose to, ah, hang my old music with
And my new music with
I guess my music shit
'Cause it’s all about the meme money now, bro
The 'Fred Durst: Gender Theorist' post on my iPhone
Clap if you feel like your whole life a lie though
I'm in line for the wine
Yeah, I meet you inside
Sister, brother, son, daughter, father, mother, fuck a rap line
Hyper flex
Snipin' feds while I cyber sex
Wipin' the mic on they neck and
Hyphy too much
And then Mikey forget, though
Lately the goal been to tighten the set the set, though
My vision burn bright like
The light on a bike
Or the cyclist head
The flow was too nice
Time to Michael it then
With the most gross gape flavoured vapour quotes yet
Kept it seven hundred for the best of fake or ageing folks
Guess my head is heavy, step inside and then away it floats
Kept the stress at bay
At most for like, a day, at best
I'm dressin' sorta not unlike I have no sense in how to stay awoke
But you can say I'm lame or gay
Just let me know how you portray a bloke
Whale scales couldn't even weigh my notes
Radio play aid my hopes that I could maybe even make it though
I think to myself, as i suck a Yoplait tub and throw away container whoa
Whoa
Whoa
Whoa
Gosh darn, I'm a mother fuckin' label, bro
I'm a fuckin' piece of danger, bro
Me and Vaw and Tulett thats a fuckin' team of angels, bro
Ain't no range we can't acclaim to, bro
I hit the line and use the flame to torch some fuckin' papers, bro
I spit my mind and cop 200 hundred fuckin' likes on Facebook, bro
Wait, No
Wait, No no no no
You see, all friends, no scum bags
Maybe only ever sniffed, like, one dumb bag, one time
Shout out to all comrade’s cum rags, it’s rum time
Get, like, busy off a few plum wines
Y'all so dizzy off the new dumb rhymes
Old but still impressive like a 3-0 to nose bluntslide, in Yeah Right
That's a shout to Eric Koston, it's still tight
And yeah, its still Mike
All power, no agility, Raichu
I think I'm done doubting my ability, Michael
Michael, Michael
Michael, Michael
Michael
Michael
Michael
Michael