Elimination Chamber

Produced by: The Alchemist

<Verse 1: Domo Genesis>

Yo, um, yo

Oh-so-cocky, you can't stop me in this old Versace

***** watch me in the streets like it's roller hockey

Your ***** is floppy, givin' sloppy while she call me papi

Takin' the doggies right to the face like she Kobiyashi

You ******' flow is washy, I'm gettin' mines dry cleaned

Tight seam, it might seem, I'm sellin' ******* pipe dreams

Hi fiends, I'm back with a bag of them packed white things

My Nikes clean, I see these ****** hatin' through my ice blings

I'm a bad ************, I ain't use a rubber

Super lover, so soon you say hello to your newest brother

The truest colors what I bleed, but you ain't seen enough of

***** leakin', you gon' have to go see the deacon you stupid sucka

Young Dom, say you old ****** should wrap it up

You wack, focus back on the craft, you hardly rap enough

The fattest blunt and death to that pop-hop, I ain't ask for much

And stop askin' for the collabs cause all you bastards suck

<Verse 2: Earl Sweatshirt>

This that thirty deep, it's Saugus ****, fire starter, squadron

Dodgin' coppers since, ask her why she droppin' cuz

It's probably cause he prodigious

Pay the rent easy, leave the bank cheesy

And bass leave your face greasy, artisan, paint easy

Thick bristle type ***** on a ***** steez

Stanzas diesel like Vic Tanny on a fritz,

Whoops, system overload, itchin' for a foe to poach

Spittin' like the engine on a ************' motorboat

Gold glisten under overcoat, missin' all

Affection for these ******, redirectin' all these ******

Very literal, type to sip the Mickeys out of cereal

Drunk and drivin', twisty, how he inked up in the swimming pool?

Hundred stand against me, I'm a menace void a villain, sue me

Drivin' into fences cause I hit the whip a little woozy

***** I'm busy cruisin', 'scuse me

<Verse 3: Vince Staples>

Can't even walk up in the church without these ****** tryna testify

I live to die, better that than to live a lie

I rap better than most these rap veterans

Hard-headed and hopeless, hope that God let us in

Momma didn't wanna give birth to a *****

Should've murdered a *****, I'm a cancer to the youth

Automatics out the roof, 380 with the weave in it

On site, scary as prom nights with Carrie

Or car rides with Berry, that's Halle not Brent

Shootin' like Brent and his brother, doin' what daddy had did

****** want Grammys and ****, that's funny to me

Cause since the first take it's been about money to me

I'm just tryin' to get what Diddy got, doing what got Biggie shot

They told me that I wasn't ****, but left me in a litter box

Give it up and get a job

<Verse 4: Action Bronson>

Uh, get a job *****

I'm like the boss from the end of the Nintendo game

My brain is on another level, I can feel the Devil's pain

Only address me by my reverend name: the good doctor

The good author, good brain in a good Porsche

Dancin' drunk in dress pants like I'm a hunk

Backflip in a jacuzzi, forty floors inside the Trump

Front-flip into this high yellow Chinese *****'s rump

Then she make me chicken broccoli for lunch

I roll a joint like a Motumbo arm, I'm high cousin

Every time I roll the dice it's five hundred

When I order wine, it's nine hundred, French chefs kneel before me

End of story take a shorty to the sortee

That's the bathroom, you already know what happens there

I pull my swimming trunks down, she suck me through the boxer

While I'm wearin' flip-flops, ****'s real, grip the wheel, lift steel

<Outro: Action Bronson>

That's it

Woo, **** yeah, hello

Fan fare, bravo, encore