The Routine Letra

Everybody doin' this shit
Everybody doin' this style
Claimin' they coming to serve us, but they can't even take what they dish out
So I'm dissin' dummies 'till I dismount
Murderin' 'em with the routine
Both eyes brake light red
Hot head full of blue dream
Flip scripts to a new scene
Crown fit for a true king
Cosigns don't mean shit, but your friends change like a mood ring
Make deals with a firm shake
Now the hand 'round me true clean
And if y'all don't be dealing with contracts, I don't know what the fuck y'all mean
I been at it for a minute meaning I'm releasing and leaving nobody breathing
Killer City can ache when the Ces is leaving
Anybody relating? Then let's get even
Strangely I'm an oddball and I'm on call 'till I'm on y'all
Kill pins but I won't draw
It's Godemis with the bone saw

(Ayo Godemis)
You gotta roll another cone of that dank piff
Rank shift based on my statement
Catastrophic when I came in, same same spillin' entertainment
While you were using pillow cases, I been grindin', filling blank discs
If you ain't willing to take risks in this business, then you really ain't shit
See I'm feelin' real exhilaration
Buildin' ill affiliations
Sasquatch to these half-flocks
Killer City in my playpen
Foreground to their backdrop
They can chop but they don't make sense
Way they' talkin' made a language with dopplegangers
Claimin' coppyin' gang twists
Fuck a half-broke, never claim rich
Black smoke in my brain stem
Backstrokin' this cake with these rap mackerel, but they can't swim
See these rap shows are my main bitch
Back home in my state, lit
Stack though, and I may grip
Cause that plateau where I can't sit

Then whoever's been soundin' like Cinderella's on some bippity-boppity-boop
Ain't nobody different, now they all gon' copy on some bippity-boppity-boop
So we dab and dippin' and we pop and drop it, got that bippity-boppity-boop
Bippity-boppity-boop, bippity-boppity-boop

Bippity-boppity-bo
Hippity-hoppity-ho
Miggity-miggity-Mac is just kickin', the venomous rappin'
I'm packin' a Mac in the back of the act
And I don't wanna hear all this rappity-rap
I would rather just listen to yackity-sacks
Like yackity-yack, your bitches don't talk back cause I'm packin' a Magnum 44 all black
Everybody doin' this shit, when they kickin' flows, I just laugh at ya
Rappers now are just robots dressed in women's clothes like Ex Machina
And throwin' money, throwin'-throwin' money sayin' ain't nobody out there cold as I
You got a golden watch, you got platinum teeth but, "I can't afford to buy kids fucking school supplies"
Ces Cru, that's my posse, that's my crew gang, that's my blood cousins
Since the 90's when we was Mob Deepin', and Wu-Tangin' and What-Whatin'
I didn't give a fuck about your little septum ring, and your fur coats, and your fuck buttons
I don't care about rappers using autotune, how 'bout you make me a list of who the fuck doesn't
That's me, just Mac
Light two cones, more for us
With the light blue smoke, pour it, stir it, and I might spew flows for purpose
That's you, just whack
You all high fructose corn syrup
Just diabetes, just junk food
You're gonna die eventually, fuck you!

Then whoever's been soundin' like Cinderella's on some bippity-boppity-boop
Ain't nobody different, now they all gon' copy on some bippity-boppity-boop
So we dab and dippin' and we pop and drop it, got that bippity-boppity-boop
Bippity-boppity-boop, bippity-boppity-boop
Bippity-boppity-boop, bippity-boppity-boop
Bippity-boppity-boop, bippity-boppity-boop
So they sell it, they soundin' like Cinderalla, yellin' "Bippity-boppity-boop"
Now we dabbin' and dippin', then poppin', droppin, got that bippity-boppity-boop