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Uh, so sick of the cube and the spreadsheets I'd rather groove and shred beats
Got wifey in my bedsheets, these other rappers dead beats
You mess with us, you dead meat Only five'seven", when I'm rappin' I'm like 10 feet
On a jet Ski, back flippin' on Lake Havasu
Now I'm charged up, got me feelin' like a Pikachu
Ask her if she wanna kick it, I ain't talkin' kung fu
Took her bra off, me and her playin' peek-a-boo
Lookin' in the mirror like, damn, Kizzle, look at you
Fresh cut, tan skin, and your pocket's done grew
Send a hundred beats, guaranteed they gettin' run through
I was so complacent, bout' time I hit the switcheroo
If nothin' changes, nothin' changes, haven't felt this good in ages
Flow so sick, your boy contagious, sleepin' on me, that's outrageous
I'll make it without a doubt, my sister asked me, am I scared to put this song out
Not an ounce, guarantee I'll make em
Bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce
Kizzle, Kizzle, Kizzle, Kizzle, Kizzle
Kizzle so nice with the poetry, there ain't a ounce of hoe in me
The steel city been growin' me, rappin' just for fun
But I think there might be some pro in me
I should probably get some sleep, but I'ma keep on flowin' b
Electric whip straight off the lot so it don't need no gas
Best believe I still pass you up, just like the car, I won't gas you up
Cause your rapping sucks, but mine's deluxe
Pretty fly for a white guy, no more Mr. Nice Guy
Good shot, but you missed me, nice try
Bettin' on me, smart money, I don't need no dumb luck
Walk around like Giannis, the way I keep it a buck
Shoutout to the Greek freak, stay outta my lane bro, beep beep
Flowin' like the roadrunner, meep meep
So clean with the rhymes, I'm a neat freak
At the crib, I still get dirty, song so wordy, kid so nerdy
Girlies like me, they so flirty, Illuminati don't deserve me
My ride home was kinda blurry, think they might've over-served me
It was time to Irish goodbye, need to dip out in a hurry, had to
Bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce
Fuck being humble, handed me the bag and I didn't fumble
Had to prove that Alexander never stumbles, whoa, the kid's dope
I moonwalk the tightrope, and these bastards can't see me
Harry Potter-cloak, I'm bout my green like Luigi
I might book a flight to Fiji, my bar's wetter than a squeegee
Even John Cena can't see me and the rhymes are just so witty
All the punchlines are absurd, I'll forever be the second best
White rapper from Pittsburgh
R.I.P. Mac