[Verse]
Mmm—confirmation of your worst fears
Ever since his first years, had a thirst for beers
Back from the Future, it'll make you more sober-er
And brought back a long list of fakers who crossed over
I'm like, fuck it, bubble-baller
Catch 'em up at Bob's show, stall him with a troubled caller
Bastard, who could make G's faster
Than a newly remastered while being truly plastered
There's four sides to every story
If these walls could talk, they'd probably still ignore me
Contemplate war over a cup of warm coffee
It's really gettin' gory, tell your problem to Maury
Don't bore V with the "Glory, hallelu-ey"
Crews be like, "Phooey", it's all a bunch of hooey
I knew he had new G, who he? Viktor Vaughn
He had a new sicker song, I think he call it "Lickupon"
Umm, but, uh... he study rhymes and patter-ins
Climb so steep, sometimes the beat don't be matterin'
Sounded like a half-dead from Scurvy band rock
A programmed, computer bio-grafted Herbie Hancock
Maybe next life, he try harder
Died a martyr at the hands of the fire-starter
All scripts ripped available for via barter
Transport the stack to the lab via charter
On the microphone, he came to daze and amaze ya
What a guy, practice bangin' flies with razors
And watch out for the robot, he got eyes with lasers
Tell 'em when they come with more topics besides blazers
Enough with the guns already, they all toys and lames
The joy's in the aim, he asked him, "How's your poison game?
Do you bust your crossbow?"
Also, more so, accurate body blows to torso, thought so
These flows you won't find in no 'how-to'
If the blacksmith doubt you, he smack the shit out you!
Make nuttin' gone, let nuttin' twitch
Just don't be near the mic when the on-button switch
V bring the beef like a trucker to Fuddrucker
Delivery to all y'all motherfuckers and bloodsucker
Coppin' more pleas than when a rap nigga bicker on
And that's my word is bond, I think he call it Lickupon
Umm, he wrote this one with a fever, sick in bed
With his dickhead inside a chickenhead
No, a dead chicken's head, he said it help his nausea
If he lost ya, wait 'til he tell you about the flyin' saucer
Dag! The kickback'll leave your wig ragged
For a big bag of good grizzle and some Zig-Zag
Survival, keep a rival in denial
And bust what he get just for comin' out his pie-hole
Die calmer than a suicide-bomber
V just the type to do a hoo-ride with Momma
Said to James Bond, my name is Viktor, Viktor Vaughn
Told a chick the quickest way to get on — Lickupon
