Tempura (Explicit)

Written by：Scott Arceneaux Jr./Aristos Petrou/Budd Dwyer

Long hair don't care

B**ch I don't give a f**k

Open me up in a new window

Talking about that bong sharing

Lawn chair chilling in the kitchen

Scrim is whipping up the ** while I'm playing Nintendo

Slit my lymph node

59 stay in the dark

F**k the lime light

B**ch that's my kinfolk

Been throwed since '94

Dick throwed a little bit to the left til'

I find the right hoe oh

Really though I hate when corny

Motherf**kers say they got a sick flow

Sounded like Carl Winslow

B**ch I'm spitting Dead Snow

That's a good movie

We can watch it we can f**k

And then you can go to bed hoe

B**ch turn off the lights

I can still see the glow

Keep it up and Ima take you home

Crib like an igloo b**ch

That's why the call me Yung now oh

It's that young pharaoh blowing on that Sarah Sparrow

Eyes looking narrow

Sipping lean with a sombrero

Rio de Janeiro paint on my f**king Chevy

Riding around with a b**ch that looks like Lil' Debbie

Now tell me what you know

Young Vincent Van Goh

Lil' John Macenroe

Put the blade to my throat

It's that uicide

My manic depressive and gun on the dresser mind state

The psycho professor the demon possessor but never the lesser soul mate

In a grey state

Watch me raise the crime rate

Welcome to Hell's gates b**ch

I'm that flaming dragon

Seven heads and draped in satin

Speaking tongues in Latin

Young death Lil' famine