How's This? feat. GDP

Had about enough of this one

Yup
(Kind of tired)
Check
(GDP)
Check
(Yuh, ah)
Check
I'm on Tinder and Prog,
Milan eating coach like donor kebab
Feel like Nas, son of God
I make about what you make in a year, But I don't have a job
Should have left me in Stockholm
Got brocco from Denver, no Bronco
No guns in Berlin just gestapo
I fly back to New York and get another glock, home
I keep planets in orbit
While I'm checking into de valdor for four chicks
Kill a rat, no organs
My words paint portraits, from hardcore to your shit
Should of left me in Jersey,
'cause every girl I met in Poland this Spring was thirsty
And when i'm meeting Cheeky Nandos,
the only thing on the ride of this tour is Jack Daniels
Blue Camels and kid masking candles,
they don't want beats, they want verified handles
Can't lead by example, only thing they got is opinions and assholes
I'm Paul Castellano, running around with ex-convicts and vandals
MC's clear the room like samples,
listeners like to sing the chorus and ramble

Alright, how's this for a hook?
When I rock mics like a kick in the tush, I, roll the L with, like,
six different kush's,
and running from the police and hid in the bushes
How's this for a chorus?
Girl's come around now, they used to ignore us
And I ain't worried about kids or a mortgage
These labels just look for a buck, rigor mortis

Stiff
(Woah)
GDP
(Gotta listen)
Yah
(Gotta pay attention)
Yah

I'm in the shower with a beer
Nail a girl one time, call her in a year
Sundress, with a flower in her ear,
Nah, they should have tore up my passport
Half pound's thrown in the Jansport
Back from the dead like Gandalf, Damn Dog,
that's how old to the hills your crew ran for
I'm Darude Sandstorm,
go ask your man and how long you're gonna fan for
Because I've been on damn tour,
like "Fuck's the van for?" God is my landlord
I'm like Shaun on the damn court, cooking like cold fire Tandoor,
I'm on the dance floor, why you mad for?
Only ever stressing about a girl when your man void
I ain't worried about nothing,
since oh seven I've been buzzing, my name come up in discussion
I'm a bad motherfucker SHUT YOUR MOUTH,
talking about bands, but you bluffing
I'm like Duff McKagan,
Pants sagging, washing down aspirin with absence
MC's live in lavish, I'm passed it,
tenth wants to cut crates and chant while they are dancing

Alright, how's this for a hook?
When I rock mics like a kick in the tush, I, roll the L with, like,
six different kush's,
and running from the police and hid in the bushes
How's this for a chorus?
Girl's come around now, they used to ignore us
And I ain't worried about kids or a mortgage
I got my arm around like a fucking Stegosaurus
Bleep! Bloop.