Pop - Death Grips

Your crisis is my alarm

Why I’m like shh stay calm

You fight shit I ride upon

My knife been drawn

3−6-5 light of dawn

Lit up rock you live under

Ass backwards muthafucka features like hot butter

Like your brothers your father and your sisters your mother

Trend setter maximum third planet from the sun orbit my lungs

Bulldozin cul de sacs ground under over every act

Cut no slack no slack

Pop pop pop pop

No chance to throw I rush the mound

Rage stormin off the chains remind me of rape house slave cock rings

You’re played out like talking

Your cadence is sloppy

Can’t break me I got me

You’re grave stink I’m lofty

You’re lady like lolli

Pop tramp on that jigaboo goddamn I’m so sick of you

I despise that shit what I would never align me with

Feel free to mime me but don’t be saltine when I call you a biter bitch

Pop pop pop pop