Dying WHALEn by Odm0513 Lyrics
You always start the conversation with those peace signs, so I'ma start this conversation with these heat rhymes
You sit on your phone half the time
You pay for Tinder Plus just to pass the time
Hear the amazing way that I craft the rhyme and crack your mind
This shits a game like when Dave crafts the mine
I'ma show you zero love, like Kevin on the Cavs, while you're down there in Dallas, losin' with the Mavs
When we hear you say dumb shit, all we do is laugh, like that North Korea quote, it's only shit that they have
Your three favorite words: chill, dope, and noice
Fuckin' with me? Looks like you made the wrong choice
This shit right here's about to get as deep as Luke's voice, while your voice is squeakin' high, like your dog's toys
Always got a hat on, call that caps lock
Remember when he sat on Ally's laptop?
The goal of this song is to make this crap stop
Lets just hope that really happens when this track drops
I'm a cowboy baby, cause I'm rockin' this kid
And you already know that Billy's rockin' his lid
Think I'll never make this song? Stop your talkin', I did
I might even make free and get the hat trick like Sid
You knew this was coming, so don't act surprised
Your stench travels with you and it is quite despised
Swear my man, all you ever do is wear those jeans
They most certainly are not very lean
Your jeans, they hang so very damn low
Don't you own a belt or are you a straight hobo?
With those jeans so low we always see your crack
Gill, that's wiggity wiggity wack
Bruh that ass crack gotta be concealed
You show off that ass from up in West Bloomfield
Take a shower buddy and not every three days
You only shower when you're lookin for a Tinder bae
Lies upon lies, when's it gonna stop?
Let's go through them all to show you all the slop
Lights going out, Rachel Staley too?
Girls touching your balls, fake phone calls with boo
Alright, I need to let off some steam
Man I tell you what, I really hate to mean, but you've been lyin' like a Detroit football team
And you say it's SnapChat but you use Tinder for a queen
And then all that stupid shit about the hair that was green
And you think we believe that your clothes are really clean?
Not to mention that your voice is as high as Howard Dean's
Man this shit is unfair
There really isn't much left to say, is there?
And I know you're gonna hit me with that childish stare, cause you know my rhymes are slicker than Miles' hair
We see that lock screen
You're not really on your phone
It's total bullshit that you're really calling home
Notre Dame Prep, a private catholic school
Bro you're not religious, you damn fool
I've gone easy on you now, and for that I'm owed a thanks
But now let's speed it up and I'll just be frank
Gilly Gilly Gill
You waddle like a duck
Quack quack quack
You fat duck fuck
Hats for every team, such a fake fan
Just root for the Lions and chill in St. Anns
This concludes the verse and the end for me
Gill it's been real reppin' 214
Billy's chili's chilly so he's gonna get some more
Billy trips and falls and now there's chili on the floor
Billy puts his hood up cause it's chilly in his dorm
"Grant, the hallway's chilly so please shut the fucking door"
They call him Chili Whalen cause his chili bowl is feard
He left some on the table and it's even in his beard
He doesn't take his cup up cause kindness is too weird for silly Chili Whalen and the mayo that he smeard
Watch these insults blown up in your face and shoot you to the moon, and I'm not even talkin' about that Davignon goon
If pissin' the bed is cool, consider you Luke Kuhns
And I'm shootin' your light out, like Duke hoops
And I'm leavin' you red and blue, like Fruit Loops
You're gonna need to duck for cover, like nuked troops
You're a chicken that takes up two seats
That's two kind of coops
It's funny to me and it's kind of a disgrace, that I'm never around when your insults take place
Cause you're too fuckin' scared to say 'em to my face
I'm sorry, but the lyrics might be too tough to handle
And when we drink, we get two stuffs for handles
Billy's walkin' around with his jeans and his mandles
Walkin' lookin' like Miles all on his toes
By the point in this song, you've been burnt like toast
And I hope that everybody enjoyed the roast
Only one thing left to do, and that's for me to boast
I'm the best rapper in the gang and it's not even close
You sit on your phone half the time
You pay for Tinder Plus just to pass the time
Hear the amazing way that I craft the rhyme and crack your mind
This shits a game like when Dave crafts the mine
I'ma show you zero love, like Kevin on the Cavs, while you're down there in Dallas, losin' with the Mavs
When we hear you say dumb shit, all we do is laugh, like that North Korea quote, it's only shit that they have
Your three favorite words: chill, dope, and noice
Fuckin' with me? Looks like you made the wrong choice
This shit right here's about to get as deep as Luke's voice, while your voice is squeakin' high, like your dog's toys
Always got a hat on, call that caps lock
Remember when he sat on Ally's laptop?
The goal of this song is to make this crap stop
Lets just hope that really happens when this track drops
I'm a cowboy baby, cause I'm rockin' this kid
And you already know that Billy's rockin' his lid
Think I'll never make this song? Stop your talkin', I did
I might even make free and get the hat trick like Sid
You knew this was coming, so don't act surprised
Your stench travels with you and it is quite despised
Swear my man, all you ever do is wear those jeans
They most certainly are not very lean
Your jeans, they hang so very damn low
Don't you own a belt or are you a straight hobo?
With those jeans so low we always see your crack
Gill, that's wiggity wiggity wack
Bruh that ass crack gotta be concealed
You show off that ass from up in West Bloomfield
Take a shower buddy and not every three days
You only shower when you're lookin for a Tinder bae
Lies upon lies, when's it gonna stop?
Let's go through them all to show you all the slop
Lights going out, Rachel Staley too?
Girls touching your balls, fake phone calls with boo
Alright, I need to let off some steam
Man I tell you what, I really hate to mean, but you've been lyin' like a Detroit football team
And you say it's SnapChat but you use Tinder for a queen
And then all that stupid shit about the hair that was green
And you think we believe that your clothes are really clean?
Not to mention that your voice is as high as Howard Dean's
Man this shit is unfair
There really isn't much left to say, is there?
And I know you're gonna hit me with that childish stare, cause you know my rhymes are slicker than Miles' hair
We see that lock screen
You're not really on your phone
It's total bullshit that you're really calling home
Notre Dame Prep, a private catholic school
Bro you're not religious, you damn fool
I've gone easy on you now, and for that I'm owed a thanks
But now let's speed it up and I'll just be frank
Gilly Gilly Gill
You waddle like a duck
Quack quack quack
You fat duck fuck
Hats for every team, such a fake fan
Just root for the Lions and chill in St. Anns
This concludes the verse and the end for me
Gill it's been real reppin' 214
Billy's chili's chilly so he's gonna get some more
Billy trips and falls and now there's chili on the floor
Billy puts his hood up cause it's chilly in his dorm
"Grant, the hallway's chilly so please shut the fucking door"
They call him Chili Whalen cause his chili bowl is feard
He left some on the table and it's even in his beard
He doesn't take his cup up cause kindness is too weird for silly Chili Whalen and the mayo that he smeard
Watch these insults blown up in your face and shoot you to the moon, and I'm not even talkin' about that Davignon goon
If pissin' the bed is cool, consider you Luke Kuhns
And I'm shootin' your light out, like Duke hoops
And I'm leavin' you red and blue, like Fruit Loops
You're gonna need to duck for cover, like nuked troops
You're a chicken that takes up two seats
That's two kind of coops
It's funny to me and it's kind of a disgrace, that I'm never around when your insults take place
Cause you're too fuckin' scared to say 'em to my face
I'm sorry, but the lyrics might be too tough to handle
And when we drink, we get two stuffs for handles
Billy's walkin' around with his jeans and his mandles
Walkin' lookin' like Miles all on his toes
By the point in this song, you've been burnt like toast
And I hope that everybody enjoyed the roast
Only one thing left to do, and that's for me to boast
I'm the best rapper in the gang and it's not even close