[Verse]
404, we fucking T-I-P
In the back of the Bach of Bach, that is my TV
Living A-C-I-D, no LSD
Bitch, I am the G-U-I, you're an icy pee
I'm thunking rugged, dead skunk in the trunk
Reality's augmented, DRM went punk
And my whole day job is a lot of flops
And I ain't talking 'bout times when my music sucked
"Spirit World Field Guide" like a Bible, son
And every motherfucker know when I bust a rhyme
You gotta check the F-A-Q on time
Or I'ma say "Fuck you" being nice in mind
So when a mothefucking slut will use adhesive tape
I GIGO that fucking whore, then I meditate
My cherry pie is irrational, fucker, what up, Dale?
Better pick a couple twins, that's my insect RAID
You can call me king of motherfuckin' ripcording
I don't say the words, I outlive 'em, I'm morphin'
Not talking 'bout the Rangers, I'm a drug, go snort it
SMP your life, simultaneous endorphines
Will always be gorgeous for whores and the dolphins
Recalling the stones stepped with chrome, they enormous
So when I be gone with Elon in Fort Collins
A total recall overtops the Rickrolling
Mad hatter, back with a black stamina
Go ape like your dad or that matador
Go rap a bar with that metaphor
That cast your light, you go mental for
I am the God, the dumb rapping lord
F-U-C-K to that sad award
The indie route for backstabber of Ford
That was a verse that worth dying for