Yeah Suck Face - Kid Sleepy

Matt Lauer’s swollen penis, that’s emotionless

All I want is more wattage and voltage, and a wrench

Type appendage for stanzas and verses

Curses and quests, johnny, bad ass bandit (and a)

Half polished Panda, born under red planet

Commanded Persephone to plant a pomegranate

In a gambit to bandage such sad stranded language

Famished, no two quarters stacked to build a moat

Anguished, no five bucks to give Indians to float

Banged it, dope, til I was rubbing two sticks

Sparking fires to smoke cigarettes found in the streets

Betcha can’t sit, withdraw, empires fall

Refill that prescrip' from Doctor Last Call (be right back…)

Awkward people gamble with Mobsters who smile

Wants to sniff her Cognac, brandy, Carlile

The art style?

Arshile, soft smile, Gorky

More please, expressionist five finger two forties

Whore thieves mention this torpedo accident

Rhyme scheme fact it is the best so rap with this

Praying mantis with jowl rich generous answers

Venerate those circumstances y’all’er lost in Atlantis

Flow anti-pedantic, god damnit build levees

Rhythm hard rock, jettis, rhymes thicc, two C’s

Sliding into third base, ump said you’re safe

Pitch below the waste and I’ll steal home plate

Biding time impediments don’t get in my way

Yeah… suck face

(Optimus Rhyme)

In there like swimwear, y’all think Tim care

Not quite I got pot to light

Cause you got to fight for your right to celebrate

Open up your minds, get high, and elevate

You can’t anticipate how I incinerated the cityscape

Make the titties shake, in all 50 states

Step off the plane walk through the gate

Trimmed up stash looking fresh on my face

Gotta fly out, rock the show

They call me patty cake baker man, I’m making dough

Hustle milk, smooth as silk, flowing through my veins

On the highway hundred twenty miles per hour switching lanes

Got inner initiative, a’int asking for permission

A’int a chance we care what the lames think

Only came here to dance and drink

Smoke a few blunts and represent

If a honey bee on my lap, birds, it’s heaven sent

Popping out on the scene like some true ass G’s

Cool ass steez, and a bag of trees

To combust this, you can trust

I’m back to stack G’s and give zero fucks

Rough and tough with the fire herb

I come out with guns blazing Wyatt Erp

Tricomes, crystals, redhairs, terps