I Am Dee Bee by UAV Base Lyrics
[Verse 1]
No shame in my game, but you rappers kind of smelly
All my hoes peanut butter, and you niggas stayin' jelly
Stayin’ wealthy like G, like that nigga Mike G
Stealin' stuff like me, it's what they all tell me
You got a way with words like a burglar snatched a dictionary
I’m always gunnin’ at em, holla Eve remain stationary
Don’t move, don’t breath, don’t even speak
Shut your mouth, shut your lips
Close your legs, no more dick
[Verse 2]
Welcome, I’m bout to blow UP
Like Ed Asner even John Ratzen
Cashin checks' while you getting wrecked
Waste away, Cast a Way, Tom Hanks, ankle brace
Uh, sick with it like Michael Moore
Spittin' horrorcore, Rocky motion on the floor
I'm about to take off
Homer Hickman, October’s very own
Coal miners son got money on the dome
Money on the Ball, Brad Pitt kill 'em all
Uma Thurman gonna call
Carrabine on my drawls
Kevin James in the mall
So I Take it to em Terry
Liar Liar, Jim Carrey
I’m lying, where the truth lies
With Kevin Bacon in the sky
Beckinsale, I’m nothing but the truth
I keep it cheap, MacBook for a booth
Still spit sick lines, lay 'em out coke lines
Running outta time but a milli more rhymes
Buy a couple more dimes ... But I don’t even smoke man
[Verse 3]
Came out the water like Flipper, ya feel me?
Metaphor Analogy Allegory Statutory
Analog FM Radio Lost Creek Gang
[Outro]
Lost Creek Gang? Like the Hampton?
Is that what you mean homie?
Yeah Hampton Ghettos
Chillin' with Bert
Chillin' with Gert
Chillin' with Mel
Chillin' with ...
Wow, I went hard like a jackhammer
It's just like POW! POW! POW! POW!
Yeah, what's up son, I killed it
I went hard like that nigga Helmick
Now listen to this nigga play piano man cause it's pretty sick
No shame in my game, but you rappers kind of smelly
All my hoes peanut butter, and you niggas stayin' jelly
Stayin’ wealthy like G, like that nigga Mike G
Stealin' stuff like me, it's what they all tell me
You got a way with words like a burglar snatched a dictionary
I’m always gunnin’ at em, holla Eve remain stationary
Don’t move, don’t breath, don’t even speak
Shut your mouth, shut your lips
Close your legs, no more dick
[Verse 2]
Welcome, I’m bout to blow UP
Like Ed Asner even John Ratzen
Cashin checks' while you getting wrecked
Waste away, Cast a Way, Tom Hanks, ankle brace
Uh, sick with it like Michael Moore
Spittin' horrorcore, Rocky motion on the floor
I'm about to take off
Homer Hickman, October’s very own
Coal miners son got money on the dome
Money on the Ball, Brad Pitt kill 'em all
Uma Thurman gonna call
Carrabine on my drawls
Kevin James in the mall
So I Take it to em Terry
Liar Liar, Jim Carrey
I’m lying, where the truth lies
With Kevin Bacon in the sky
Beckinsale, I’m nothing but the truth
I keep it cheap, MacBook for a booth
Still spit sick lines, lay 'em out coke lines
Running outta time but a milli more rhymes
Buy a couple more dimes ... But I don’t even smoke man
[Verse 3]
Came out the water like Flipper, ya feel me?
Metaphor Analogy Allegory Statutory
Analog FM Radio Lost Creek Gang
[Outro]
Lost Creek Gang? Like the Hampton?
Is that what you mean homie?
Yeah Hampton Ghettos
Chillin' with Bert
Chillin' with Gert
Chillin' with Mel
Chillin' with ...
Wow, I went hard like a jackhammer
It's just like POW! POW! POW! POW!
Yeah, what's up son, I killed it
I went hard like that nigga Helmick
Now listen to this nigga play piano man cause it's pretty sick