Alfred’s Theme

Before I check the mic (Check, check)

I give it an extra swipe with a Lysol disinfectant wipe

coronavirus in effect tonight,

Antiseptics on deck, I got every type

I throw on my tux, then I give zero ****s,

Then I act like a jockstrap, cup my nuts then I

Check my ball hair (What?)

Make sure it's all there, then call the pallbearer

It's Music to Be Murdered By again, why stop?

Overkill, like a pipe bomb in your pine box

You're all hitched to my cock (What?)

Went from punching the time clock to getting my shot

Then treating it like a cyclops

Like it's the only one I got and my thoughts are like nines cocked

Every line’s obscene,pervertedest mind,got

the dirtiest rhyme stop

That's why there's parental advising every time I drop

So throw on the theme to Alfred, I'll channel him like the Panama Canal

But how could I get up in arms

About you saying trash is all that I put out?

Bitch, I still get the bag when I'm putting garbage out

Plus, the potty mouth, I'm not about to wash it out, the filthiest

So all this talk about I'm washed up how preposterous

Because if cleanliness is next to godliness,

It's obvious that it's impossible for me to be beside myself

And I'm 'bout that capital, like a proper noun

Sit on top the pile, got me sitting on numbers like a pocket dial

Quick to call you out on your

Bullshit, don't make me get that croc a dial

'Cause if I do, it's see you later, alligator, made it out the trailer

Then I made a vow to cater to no one

So hate I've gained about the same amount that's in my bank account

So here's some more shit for you to complain about, I say the

Bars that never slack, but always get attacked

I think they're gunnin' for me, it's startin' to feel like that

Like I'm marked 'cause when I rap,

It's like fallin' on my back in a tar pit

'Cause I have this target on my back (Ew, yuck)

But if I ever double-cross my fans and lost my stans

I'd probably pop five Xans, go in my garage, start my van

Inhale as much carbon monoxide and exhaust I can

And doze off like, but odds like that with these thoughts I have

It's like a giant getting squashed by ants

If this is the test,

The time I pass with flying colors, like I just tossed my crayons

Small, medium, and large size cans

Sanitizers of all types, brands, cost nine bands

Which is a small price for Lysol wipes and if

My palms brush across my pants, I wash my hands

Shit, hold on, man

Mother****er

Happy birthday to-

**** (Shh, quiet)

I sit in silence in candlelit environments

Sipping wild Irish while getting violent

Homicidal vision when I'm spitting like this

But really I'm just fulfilling my wish

Of killing rhymes which is really childish

And silly, but I'm really like this,

I'm giving nightmares to Billie Eilish

I'm Diddy's side, bitch

What the ****? Hold on, wait

"I'm Diddy's side, bitch"?

Oh, I'm still east side, bitch

So tell the END, since he PMD

Been givin' y'all the business, D.R.E and me

From the MMLP to in MTBMB

Bitch is 2020, you still ain't seein' me

So call me Santa Claus 'Cause at the present , I out-rap 'em all

I'm at the mall, got your bitch in a bathroom stall

She could suck a basket ball through

A plastic straw with a fractured jaw

My dick is coat check, she want to jack it off

I'm so far passed the bar, I should practice law

Mentally, I'm ****ed up generally

Duke's a hazard car, and if you could dogs

'Cause this is murder, murder and you get murked, murked

This music 'bout to kill you, brr, brr

This chicken hit my phone, she said "Chirp, chirp"

I said, "Hut, hut, hike your skrrt, skrrt"

Then go eat some worms, like the early bird

What the **** is love? That's a dirty word

Make me fall in, there's not a girl on Earth

Or any other planet, that's a world of hurt

And I won't buy her designer, 'cause I don't pander

But I'm back with so many knots, I need a chiropractor

And this the final chapter, 'cause I'm either frying after

Or they're gon' give me the needle like a vinyl scratcher

Yeah, I'm a card,

Like Hallmark at Walmart with a small cart buying wall art

And y'all who claim to be dawgs aren't

No bite like a tree mostly just all bark, arf, arf

But y'all pickin' the wrong tree,

They call me Dog because I'm barking (Bark, bark)

And I got a lot, yeah, like where cars park

I describe it as bowling (Why?) ball hard (Ball's hard)

'Cause the gutter's where my mind is in

It's a misframe, but I slit like the five and the ten

'Cause without a second to spare, I'm strikin' again

And when the beat is up my alley, I go right for the pins

The cypher begins, I'm talkin' smack like heroin

The mic's a syringe, it's like a binge, Vicodin

I would like to pretend my mind's a recycling bin

There's no place I never been, but I never budge and I never bend

You hyperextend on me, this game's life, it depends

Like adult diapers for men, even when I'm rappin' less stellar

It's sour grapes, I still whine, I'm the best seller

Like a train

Spray you as these shots penetrate through Dre's booth

And goes straight through your grapefruit, no escape route

So you won't leave me at your scathe, with a few scrape wounds

Your ass is grass and I'm not gonna graze you

But a bar's , I need a Mad Hatter

'Cause I got so many caps, and you don't have any straps

You'd be a fitted, so don't act like you're fittin' to snap

Bitch, I'll pee on your head, like a Philly's hat (Ha Ha)

No stoppin' me, you're on a window shopping spree

Bitch, you probably go broke at the Dollar Tree

You never buy shit, all you ever cop's a plea

You're always punkin' out like Halloween

You rather opt to flee, you need to stop it, punk

Homie, you not a G, act like you got the pump

You're gonna pop the heat or get the Glock and go

Bitch, if you shot a tree, you wouldn't pop the trunk

Yeah, and I'm buddies with Alfred,

We about to disembowel, then gut 'em and scalp 'em

Yeah, this about to be the bloodiest outcome

'Cause we gon' make you bleed with every cut from this album

So I'm choppin' 'em up like Dahmer

The nut job with the nuts that are bigger than Jabba the Hutt

I'm in the cut, and I'm out for the blood

It's lookin' like it's that time of the month

Carvin' 'em up with the bars while I sharpen 'em up, dawg

I'm the mutt,

I'm gonna **** your mom in the butt

With a thermometer, ****in' phenomenal

But y'all looking up like abdominals

If you don't , droppin' like dominos

The formidable, abominable

Even if it touch the top of the dome, saw 'em get the

I'm at the stop-and-go, hop on the mop and gloat

you're stomachin' knots like you swallowed rope

You out of pocket, throw like a mother****in' wallet stole

Wait, why'd the beat cut off?

**** it