Kast Out by Ghostemane Lyrics
[Verse 1: Supa Sortahuman]
My eyes are bloodshot, like the Mishka logo
Smokin dope, riding solo watching for the po-po
Smoke rolls out my mouth eyes hella low tho
Turn the speakers up a little more
Sortahuman is Schema, hoe
[Verse 2: Mr. Sisco]
I'm spinning round like I'm crash, fuck with me and that's yo' ass
I'm with a clique and they will blast, right up on yo' funky ass
Suicidal is from the D, yeah that Wicca shit
Sisco came down on the track with the Schema bitch
Runnin round with the Glock, finna let that shit bust
Fuckin with the Schema we leaving bitch ass niggas in dust
Learn my motherfuckin' name, turn em to a ghost, mane
Sortahuman with the pen and I'm loco and I'm insane
[Verse 3: Lil WooFy WooF]
I cruise like Tom, with the bomb in my knapsack
Fuck the three-eighty I'm outta the cut with the fat mac
I bust like a nine and blast off like a rocket
A nine in my holster with a clip in my pocket
Hoes wanna be down kinda like Brandy
I sip on the Brandy and my rubbers come in handy
[?] cause my mission is kamikaze
Its WooF and niggas know they can't fuck with Schemaposse
[Verse 4: Wavy Jone$]
Don't give no fuck I'll spark it up inside a church bitch
We get em bucking like a blunt you getting burnt bitch
Yeah I'm the shit, I'm the shit, I'm the shit. ho
Can catch me cooking I ain't whipping I wrap that bitch. ho
Lit phone, twerking make her work and flick my wrist slow
They like yo' bitch and nympho and I'm like which ho
I'm in the club mouth shining like some tin foil
A all black pink trim, and now my [?]
[Verse 5: DJ Killa C]
Coming to kill, killin at will
Spitting so sick and it's leaving you chills
Creepin up in the darkness with a nine mill and that gold grill
Killa C straight bringing that heat
I'm like Freddy Kruger I'm creeping in yo' sleep
Schema the posse we be so unique
And we running the streets without no defeat
Ridin slab in that low low
Sippin syrup in slow-mo
Oh no, I hit a nigga with the nine mill' and the po-po
And speed off with no trace
A dead body with no face
The next day I beat trial
Then leave court with a closed case, bitch
[Interlude: Ghostemane]
Aye real talk man
Shouts out to all the motherfuckin' fans that downloaded this album
You know what I'm sayingShouts out to all the Schema fans
K-R-double-E-P
I do this shit for y'all
Shouts out to JGRXXN
Shouts out G*59
Know what I'm saying
Everybody else who contributed to this album
We running the underground
Bitch better duck
[Verse 6: Ghostemane]
Splatter yo' brains all over the interstate
But I won't lose no sleep tonight
Not even a minute I'm dreaming and wondering
How the fuck I'm still alive
Losin myself in the pages of graphic depiction
Of shit that don't exist
You thinking I'm outta my mind
But it keeps me alive at a fucked up time like this
I load my .22 and point it straight up at my dome
Mothafuckas thought Caligula was flexing but you got it wrong
I'm looking down the barrel of my own shit
Waiting for God to show me if he really exist
My eyes are bloodshot, like the Mishka logo
Smokin dope, riding solo watching for the po-po
Smoke rolls out my mouth eyes hella low tho
Turn the speakers up a little more
Sortahuman is Schema, hoe
[Verse 2: Mr. Sisco]
I'm spinning round like I'm crash, fuck with me and that's yo' ass
I'm with a clique and they will blast, right up on yo' funky ass
Suicidal is from the D, yeah that Wicca shit
Sisco came down on the track with the Schema bitch
Runnin round with the Glock, finna let that shit bust
Fuckin with the Schema we leaving bitch ass niggas in dust
Learn my motherfuckin' name, turn em to a ghost, mane
Sortahuman with the pen and I'm loco and I'm insane
[Verse 3: Lil WooFy WooF]
I cruise like Tom, with the bomb in my knapsack
Fuck the three-eighty I'm outta the cut with the fat mac
I bust like a nine and blast off like a rocket
A nine in my holster with a clip in my pocket
Hoes wanna be down kinda like Brandy
I sip on the Brandy and my rubbers come in handy
[?] cause my mission is kamikaze
Its WooF and niggas know they can't fuck with Schemaposse
[Verse 4: Wavy Jone$]
Don't give no fuck I'll spark it up inside a church bitch
We get em bucking like a blunt you getting burnt bitch
Yeah I'm the shit, I'm the shit, I'm the shit. ho
Can catch me cooking I ain't whipping I wrap that bitch. ho
Lit phone, twerking make her work and flick my wrist slow
They like yo' bitch and nympho and I'm like which ho
I'm in the club mouth shining like some tin foil
A all black pink trim, and now my [?]
[Verse 5: DJ Killa C]
Coming to kill, killin at will
Spitting so sick and it's leaving you chills
Creepin up in the darkness with a nine mill and that gold grill
Killa C straight bringing that heat
I'm like Freddy Kruger I'm creeping in yo' sleep
Schema the posse we be so unique
And we running the streets without no defeat
Ridin slab in that low low
Sippin syrup in slow-mo
Oh no, I hit a nigga with the nine mill' and the po-po
And speed off with no trace
A dead body with no face
The next day I beat trial
Then leave court with a closed case, bitch
[Interlude: Ghostemane]
Aye real talk man
Shouts out to all the motherfuckin' fans that downloaded this album
You know what I'm sayingShouts out to all the Schema fans
K-R-double-E-P
I do this shit for y'all
Shouts out to JGRXXN
Shouts out G*59
Know what I'm saying
Everybody else who contributed to this album
We running the underground
Bitch better duck
[Verse 6: Ghostemane]
Splatter yo' brains all over the interstate
But I won't lose no sleep tonight
Not even a minute I'm dreaming and wondering
How the fuck I'm still alive
Losin myself in the pages of graphic depiction
Of shit that don't exist
You thinking I'm outta my mind
But it keeps me alive at a fucked up time like this
I load my .22 and point it straight up at my dome
Mothafuckas thought Caligula was flexing but you got it wrong
I'm looking down the barrel of my own shit
Waiting for God to show me if he really exist