Ronaldo

[Intro]

Yo. What the fuck is up? My name is Speak, or Speakymadonna if you're nasty

And a lot of people been asking me, "Yo man, where you been for the last year?"

And I'm like "Yo, I've been in the fucking gutter. Eating cuppa noodles, and fucking ugly fat bitches that I met off Jdate and Etsy."

But I wrote this song for you

Bitches call me pretty, I'm mistaken for Ronaldo

Facial hair exquisite, legendary like Geraldo, Rivera

Swing with the yogi bear attire

Novak Djokovic, backstroke choke a bitch

Come like a boss, chill out then I smoke a bit

Who got the words they get you higher than some opiates

Inhale quarters like a vending machine

I still keep an close eye on my enemy fiends

Well, I pray the based god is keeping you blessed

We got, black widow kisses for the angel of death

And my thrift store clothes keep me beautifully dressed

The blunt force of my ego might bludgeon your chest, yes

I'm a rarity, never been a parity

Red eye flight smoked out for the clarity

You treatin' hoes like they a charity case

Still trickin' hella dough like it's a part of a chase

I might fuck her face like it's a part of her waist

And blow three hundred dollars on elaborate stakes, dig

Last year we was eatin' [?] ramen - wait wait wait

Fuck that, still eatin' [?] ramen

If my fam don't eat, then my fam start robbin'

If my dick start throbbin' baby girl use your noggin'

Damn speak I heard you grew up in a manger

Next to baby Jesus and them yellow power rangers

Three wise men brought you gifts of gold

With them minx and fur coats to battle the cold

You had FIFA on the big screen, chiefin' on the big green

Sleep around promiscuous but always kept my dick clean

Now who the fuck wears a condom to the orgy

Life'll fuck you over never call you in the mornin'

Faded keeps sleepin' fuck it kill him while he's snorin'

Faded keeps sleepin' fuck it kill him while he's snorin'

[I'm?] cool enough for Pitchfork, or black enough for Worldstar

But if I catch you slippin' I'mma mash you with them crowbars

No deal or recording contract

But I still got my name on a fucking gold plaque, yeah

The little know it all who ain't afraid to blow it all

On Aaliyah look-alikes and denim Tommy overalls

Baby girl, I've been watching you

Like a creep in the minivan parked around the block

Not a hawk nor an animal, my legion is doom

And spring is in bloom, there's plenty reason to shroom

So, you can tell Carmina, I'll serve her my subpoena

And if she'll feelin' freaker I'll fuck her to Selena

And bidi-bidi bam-ba, all over that sexy ass, girl

[Outro]

Mua, fuego. Once again, my name is Speak, and I'm a westside [argon...?] Craigslist killer. For the nine-nine, the 2000. That pizza wave shit. Shout out to Syd on the beat, and Westside Ty the beeper king. And shout out to Christina for braiding my hair. Look at me, I look like Sean Paul. Sean Paul

Come on and braid my hair

My hair, my hair, yeah