Prophecy by Tyler Funke Lyrics
[Intro]
God motherfuckin' damn
I got bitches on my line, gotta check the snap
I gotta take a breather, take a breather
[Verse]
So when I was a little younger, I wondered
If I could grow up and change the world no hunger
Plundered in society, thinkin’ bout what I could be
Tommy Lee or Tommy C, nobody be stoppin' me
I wanna do the mission that is said to be impossible
You may say yes, I am speaking not so plausible
So then I call an audible, maybe do something like comedy
Why the fuck they laughin' bout misogyny, I see its not for me
So lemme spit a prophеcy (Spit it)
In 10 years I’m the next big hit (Woo)
So gеt your toilet ready cuz I'm the next shit (Yeah)
This shits too fuckin' full got no room for snitches
So check in to the next hotel I gotta give myself some stitches
For the fuckerboy that sucker punched me over some bitches
The list is, me and her, not you so get the fuck up out the kitchen
I'm cookin' up, stirrin' up like I'm witchin' (Witchin’ Witchin’)
Which end do I light it up
J in my hand get your pics and flick it up
And kick back your feet, get your motherfuckin' dick sucked
And wake up the next morning in the back of a pickup
Pick it up, I see feet draggin’
Wish I could breathe fire where's the genie from Aladdin
I had it, I said I can not fumble it, but when I'm walkin' up, I start to trip and then I’m tumblin'
Fuck
God motherfuckin' damn
I got bitches on my line, gotta check the snap
I gotta take a breather, take a breather
[Verse]
So when I was a little younger, I wondered
If I could grow up and change the world no hunger
Plundered in society, thinkin’ bout what I could be
Tommy Lee or Tommy C, nobody be stoppin' me
I wanna do the mission that is said to be impossible
You may say yes, I am speaking not so plausible
So then I call an audible, maybe do something like comedy
Why the fuck they laughin' bout misogyny, I see its not for me
So lemme spit a prophеcy (Spit it)
In 10 years I’m the next big hit (Woo)
So gеt your toilet ready cuz I'm the next shit (Yeah)
This shits too fuckin' full got no room for snitches
So check in to the next hotel I gotta give myself some stitches
For the fuckerboy that sucker punched me over some bitches
The list is, me and her, not you so get the fuck up out the kitchen
I'm cookin' up, stirrin' up like I'm witchin' (Witchin’ Witchin’)
Which end do I light it up
J in my hand get your pics and flick it up
And kick back your feet, get your motherfuckin' dick sucked
And wake up the next morning in the back of a pickup
Pick it up, I see feet draggin’
Wish I could breathe fire where's the genie from Aladdin
I had it, I said I can not fumble it, but when I'm walkin' up, I start to trip and then I’m tumblin'
Fuck