DIET_ - Instrumental
Denzel Curry, Kenny Beats
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DIET_ - Instrumental Song Lyrics(Whoa, Kenny)
Pamela Anderson, Pam Grier
The man's here, there's no fear
Came through with no tears (wah)
I don't cry
Matter of fact, I don't lie like a bedside
To tell the truth, then I tell you what it is or what it ain't
Please roll me up another dank, another smoke
Though I see it as the antidote to cure my daily anecdotes
I see my thoughts, it's adios
Finito, I get new jerseys like I was a guido
The ego, gotta be vetoed if you want a free throw
D'Evils, stay with the scripture, what your mama read you
You gotta milk the game, son, I couldn't bottle-feed you
This next bar was 'bout to do some Logic shit
But now I gotta stop the shit and let me pop my shit
Drama still added on, stayin' positive
All my niggas on my side, on the opposite
Get money from a show, then deposit it (uh)
Your shows got no hoes, I acknowledge it (yeah)
So braggadocious, spit sick shit, it's atrocious (nasty)
Risin' like the stocks, stockbroking
The Shogun, came through with no gun
One man, Ichiban, fresh out of Japan, do as I command
And what I demand is some fuckin' peace and quiet
I told 'em, please go to church, and please get on a diet
Shoebox came with the doowop
One billion and two cops can't find 2Pac
Two shots, that's two grazed in two days
What goes up must come down on Tuesday
And I don't like Pixar, mister
I am the master, I came through like a (wait a minute), bastard
Nobody fathered my style
People said I would fall off, but I've been here for a while, so nope
Are you ready for the motherfuckin' giant?
The tyrant, the titan, the ogre, the lycan
The vampire, taking over empires
If the game was a tooth, I'm a fuckin' pair of pliers
We gon' do 'em Vinny style
As you can see, this nigga got many styles (serious)
Know too many niggas that got semi rounds (serious)
And cold like (ice)
Put thorns to your crowns, you go out like Christ, my nigga
Get money from a show, then deposit it (uh)
Your shows got no hoes, I acknowledge it (yeah)
So braggadocious, spit sick shit, it's atrocious (nasty)
Risin' like the stocks, stockbroking
The Shogun, came through with no gun
One man, Ichiban, fresh out of Japan, do as I command
And what I demand is some fuckin' peace and quiet
I told 'em, please go to church, and please get on a diet
You already know what time it is
It's the motherfuckin' championship
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