Album on Tronicles

Track 22 on Tronicles
Lame Asl Lyrics
[Intro]
(Hmm, nyeh, nyeh, nyeh) (Helluva made this beat, baby)

[Verse]
Pull up on your bitch, decapitate her
You ain’t doin’ nothin’, Professor Procrastinator
Yerky, it’s a activator, really, it’s a agitator, bitin’ like a alligator
Tryna be everywhere, you might see me on Jimmy Fallon later
All that fuckin’ LOL’n, got a .50 cal’ for haters
TRX, you better move it in that lil’ navigator
You the type to say fuck it, spend it all, and stack it later
Why you think you where where you at? Make it make sense
Cuddy makin’ real money off of making fake tens
Shooter Mr. Put-You-In-A-Coffin, yeah, he make beds
Yeah, I know I’m sick in the head, yeah, I take meds
You the type to hear to some Sexy Redd, and prolly shake dreads
Rude than a bitch, you would do what bae said
Cuddy set trippin’, pop blues and he drank red
Last thing he seen was blue flames and a ape head
Play it cool like we ain’t fuckin’, like, girl, you ate, friend
What they ain’t said? I lost my dawg to the street,

whatever Ray said, boom, that’s what the Drac’ said
Since he think he Superman, we gon’ leave his cape red
Shit, I’m good in the A, from Buck to Bankhead
Tryna put my youngins in the booth, they stuck on bank scams
Lucky we don’t bring junk on them skits to start a spank cam
I got the ups like I drank the juice off Space Jam
You ain’t never took the work and gave the white a spray tan
Ooh, shit, we gotta go, there go that Ray van
You the type to get yo’ shit tooked, and be like, “Hey, man!”
Level two dinosaur, you got the base RAM
I can’t even buy a bag of chips, sometimes I hate fans
Three years without a cut, I’m turnin’ to a caveman
They act like they want beef, then they play ham
So much pain built up, Esco got eight grams
I was sixteen and hit [?] for eight bands
I just drank a whole pint, I’m dazed and confused
Fuck around and raise hell, I’m blazed off the shrooms
He went out bad, he ain’t get a grave or a tomb
Give his ass a spoon, hollows turn his brains into soup
They all fire, but I need the most flame out the group
In the trenches, still’ll let my chain out the Coupe
Why you talkin’ bout all the shit you ain’t ’bout to do?
Why you talkin’ bout all the bricks you ain’t ’bout to move?
Think he had a sentry gun how beam aimed out the roof
Phew, we just made him poof
Brrrt, we just made him poop
To be a hunnid, I don’t know nobody lame as you
(Shit, you lame as hell, shit, you lame as hell)
(Shit, you lame as hell, shit, you lame as hell)
(Shit, you lame as hell, shit, you lame as hell)
(Shit, you lame as hell, I’d hate to be you)