Better Things

We got this drunk dude over here, in the middle of the street
He just told me, he just told me
He said he was gonna shit on us
He said he was gonna shit on us
Oh my God, look at him
We aren't gonna get any shit on us while we got the thing
I don't need that shit
I'm not gonna get hit
What did I do?
I look like I need that?
Do I really look like I need that?
You can bet I got better things to do than that
You can bet I got better things

Now look what this cheddar brings
Custom everything, swerve in everybody's lane
I pull up to the curb, then beef with 'em like Clubber Lang
Then throw they chick in some nuts like PF Changs
I call that special the kung pow
The magnum come loud, then kick in the mouth to Kung Lao
But somehow, someway, I keep coming up
With more ways to earn them dollar bucks, monster trucks
Crushing you fuckers, big wheelin', 4x4
Haulin' a 2x4, that's Jim Duggan
Way to (Ho!), waving the black flag, fuck it
I break down them roaches as if they tree nuggets
It smell shitty, don't it? It's just a repellent for all opponents
And you can bet your whole city on it
Pass the keys and the deeds, nigga, we moving in 'em
Switching the locks on the door, welcome your newest tenants

You can bet I got better things to do than that
Oh my God
Get going, you little fuck
Get going
Yeah, asshole
We see you, bye
Fuck you
Yeah, haha
You know
Get going, you little piece of fuck
Oh my God
Bye, fuck you
You can bet I got better things to do than that
You can bet I got better things

Now look at what the kitty drug inside of his mouth
A dirty rat stuck in the city thuggin'
Cable box at an angle to keep the shitty plug in
Dickie suit with the pocket to keep the griffy gloves in
Up to bat, I'll swing and knock the meat up out your pumpkin
It's expected for me to come more rugged than bum skin
With the calluses, I'll smoke the paralysis
Hold the mallow stick, you bang 'em, my intention was malicious
That's what the challenge is
Raw like GG Allin, it's flyer than money-face, wavin' New Balances
Machine gun the label, they fail to pay up the balances
Heavy caliber, still taking things out of ovens like Mary Calendar
Professors compare me to Jerry Salinger
Many habits, from the hills like Lenny Kravitz
Equalizer dope, throw the compressor on the lettuce baggage

You know, like, compress the lettuce, son
You know, like the loud pack, it's too loud
You gotta compress it, turn it down and shit, word

Oh, buddy, you are the most fucking amazing bitch of all time, yeah
Yeah, Sam, I love you
I wanna make your babies into fucking little
Fucking Candace worms with fucking little Bernacchi
Who I was thinking of as somebody else, I forgot her name
What the fuck's her name?
One of that cat bitch, one of those other girls who chill at the Grove
And I don't even know when I'll
I don't even know where the fuck you came from, yo
What the fuck? You fucking tripped me up, motherfucker
You want a piece of me?
You fucking worthless
W double G