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Alien Neighborhood - Know Mcs Lyrics

Why they call you hoodie
What I gotta put that in a song?

I’m called that cause yo bitch
A lil more comfortable when I’m on

Why they call you hoodie
What I gotta put that in a rappin track?

Once she got me
You ain’t gon have her
Or yo jacket back

Why they call you hoodie Homie
You an article of clothing dawg?

These rappers is my children look at the
Particles I got clonin wrong

Why they call you hoodie

Is that a hilltop hoods reference?
It’s cause everywhere I go I carry the
Energy of my hoods essence

And I fuck so good I get yo bitch prеgnant
Thru text message
Yo bitch wanna suck on my dick
So wе know she got good preference

Bitch on my arm like she
Tatted and staying
She bad and she Slayin
Demeanor be calm

Kicks on my feet like i
Skate for the berrics
Yo bitch in hysterics
And made for the streets

Rappers on my dick like they
Get paid to do it
My dick game is free
What the fuck is you stupid

Now everybody wanna rap like me
But ya can’t quite be me
I seen you in the CGI
And I seen Gs Die
In the ICU
Too many motherfuckers
Wanna rap like me
They ain’t no MC
They ain’t no MCs
Kobe, Lebron
Is the whole shit I’m on
I got homies with homies
That roll wit they guns
And it won’t be shit to me
To call em to getchu
And bust up a u turn to
Make sure they hit you

Hoodie got a lot to say
About a lot of things

It ain’t gonna stop until I
Got a lot of rings

Send em to the grave
Well I got a pot of greed

Cook a dead rapper
Like a side of collard greens

Know me as god
With the world in my palm
I got demons wit demons that
Look like my momma
And it won’t be shit to me to
Cast out a spirit
And do it in the booth
So the whole world can hear it
I’m gearing up towards
Something bigger than me
Took the mask off my face like the
Mystery machine
It’s no Covid I’m over
Identity disorders
If I killed anybody it’s the soldiers
At the border
Yall fuckin nazis
I’m waiting for the day that I got
Paparazzi
I’m calling everybody out
Whole shit sideways
Y’all overpriced like a TGI fridays
I’m waiting for the day that y’all don’t give a fuck what I say
I’d be the killer that was
Chillin in ya drive way
I’m like the watcher
My new shit my hardest
My Soul made of coal
With the heart of an artist

Sending y’all favorite bar spitters
To the Mortician
Augmented artificial flavors
In the rhyme scheme
Deer in the high beams
Fear and never try things
Live in the miracle of spirit
The divine scheme

And y’all wanna let the blind lead
Fuck that
Nevermind me