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Lyrics

(Oh, man!)
(Haha, yeah)
Once upon a time, you know
Two niggas...

Lights, camera, Action Bronson
Got a sign on my mic, and it says "Use with caution"
In pillow fights with a rocket launcher
Do your toys like my samples, flip your tonka
Battlefield flow, no codes to Contra
Noob-tube your truth, no-scope your sponsor
I'm a level-up demon, huh
Wastin' time on these hip-hop dreams, I gotta go
Whip it out, nutted on a tramp stamp
I sent a freckle-faced bitch to my Bandcamp
'Cause I don't rap, I do magic
Get silly on trash pop singers who faking in the industry
Yah!
Make a lot of money, moving cash, boys
Fuck them rich kids, nigga I never had toys
I ain't hood, I'm human, I had it bad like Usher
So for them coins I'm Mario, uppercut ya
Now tell me who's the man with the plan
I show hoes my dick, turn fans into stans
I predict by the age of twenty-nine
I'll have my own booties channel like Killa Cam
I am no Joker, Heath Ledger to your Val Kilmer
-Batman, now who's the man?
(Devan!) No bitch, it's Devon
Accent, accent, listen to my songs
I'm the one like Neo, but more like Geo
(Pow!) Power geysers, bricks and the kilos
Nerd gangsta, slingin' with a Wiimote
Tell a bitch to strip, and count back from zero
(Count back from zero, count back from zero)
(Count back from zero)

Lyrics continue below...

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Not a predator, I just say what I want
Unfiltered, no time for editors
Fuck my competitors, this is the Olympics
Set a world record and flip off the gymnast
I got the belt, now I'm not letting it go
I got it in my clutches, you can suck my dick haters
Darth Vader, breathe hard, wake neighbors
Keep a white bitch trickin' like Kate Favor
I only play the games that I win at
And only fuck bitches with stamina, nigga, swing cash
Start first, always finish last
Bank statement, I got an allergy to cash
Can I get a loan? (No)
Can I get some cake? (No)
I'm going through a phase (Why?)
Broke nigga ways, so here goes an I-O-U for today
Please, accept this baby
The only woman in my life
Is the one whose pussy I popped out of in '89
They call it the breech-birth, get it?
That's because instead of my head, I came out cheeks first
Breach of a contract, breach of my confidence
Breach a corner store so I didn't have to rhyme for rent
The sayings true, a house ain't a home
'Cause even in my room, I lived in my headphones

Yeah, uh
We're just some niggas fresh out from a two year bid
Tryna show these broke niggas how we live
Don't even ask nigga, what we did
And don't call us twins, call us trophy kids
(What's that name, nigga?)
Trophy kids, fresh out of jail from a two year bid
(Oh my god!)
Trophy kids
Don't even ask nigga, what we did, uh

(What'd you do?)
(Yeah, no, seriously, what'd you do though?)

Writer(s): Devon Hendryx

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