Statues

[Intro] I climbed through the basement window And my leg got stuck (and it hurt) [Verse 1] A miniature (uh) A miniature golf course This is where the golf course is Is of course the answer? Of course the course is With every school shooter will leave a couple of courpes' in the offices Don't ever let the legal harrass by the officers Kill performances, already were 100 percent Theres more to this Can't consent to the immortalness We go hard, We make noise Yeah my [?] There's no revolting this [Verse 2 - Elbee Thrie] Now unless you ever thought of this because it's free And by the way my name is Elbee Thrie And honestly Phony P, was 'sposed to go So hopefully we find our foot in the shallow hole Bound to go up, in the underground Making dope shit, since you throw us in the ultrasound Do you hear this hit? Yeah we make ultrasounds You need to get high to guarentee that you'll be going down [Bridge] (Bitch) [?] [Verse 3 Temi O] Hello hello again The name is MIM The super duper Martin Luther Jnr of the pen The runny feeling in your stomache because you bit the end We struck the ruler with the ruger pointed at your head I'm dead Ass or titty's? I'm a breastman The beat The Funk To make you feel it in your chest damn You in the mood for sex I'm in the mood for quest The part that seems appealing when you're dealing with your ex Some people lost in space The resturant is coming The horns wear out You hear the bass thumping The keys settle in The pollyphone is running [?] They call me Temi O [Verse 4] Ayo now stop it I ain't in the mood Critics and everyone oppress what they interview Success I ain't finna lose We on a quest, for them cheques and them corvettes To live a life somewhat better but more stressed Probbaly more women and more sex Drink with a lid, that money big on a small cheque Ya'll just some kids not musicians ready to make it big To save this generation, Yeah I ain't going yet We just forget about the past Cause we listen to Some rappers about their swag and their Bently Coupe Who is smashing and who's bad like the bitches do Gold Yard, talking bout your lyrics n**** go hard