Check out My Spin Kick

Champion stinger, lighting up amps with my finger I rank your show no chance if a bringer I got the dank on my fingers, while I lamp and I linger Aww man Goddamn I'm a stinker Google doc is equipped to spit my verses in Got a bottle locked in the whip for pissing purposes The Serteline service me to nip my nervousness I can see clearer now your existence is superfluous Make things take swings like big Bertha hits Leave ya gurrglin' the molten surface I'm surfin' in My purpose is to squirt my dearth of undisturbedness And Bitterness and litter it everywhere on the earth and split Everything I just said was nothin But ya love it The tone on the synth got ya mind convinced it's got some substance But I swear it doesn't, stumble in my seed or bracket Keep ya chin tucked in or its what my buzzin Fila's catchin' Can I kick it? Yes You can Can I kick it? Yes You can May I kick it? Yes You can Well I'm going to Dragging 808s into straight grime You rhyming to try scrape by, well bitch I'm trying to break time You may have heard through the grapevine Maybe I'll maze redesign all of the straight lines, piece of cake, I Used to sit and ponder it Like yo Where's my missing confidence to go with all this bitching competence But Now I'm flipping dominant, cops are pissed but impressed I put the rizz in resisting arrest Shout to my ex's who hate me. all none of em Ok. Depending on the day maybe one of em My best life advice is don't be a glummy glum SSRIs can help and homie I can front you some Barrump pum pum, I'm lovin' drums and gettin' down Aint trying to dump none of my toxic people, trying to help them out I don't break hearts, I heal it, PhD Vagenius Leading breezeys to my sheets like ET eating Reese's pieces When rhymes fly out my mouth I don't leave a dry gine in the house Folks slide and collide in the crowd The Grey matter has to stretch to grasp my text Aint tryin to collab with friends I'm tryin to be the only rapper left So miss me with whatever you be tryin' to hit me with Mixing thickest kicks, the tricks isn't just in the spinnyness Insulin in me discontinuing flimsy skinnyness Pity the chicks not witnessin the wrist at his prettiest Rippin' rhythm of every inch of its innocence Just Give me sticky ick, 60 minutes And literally any instrument in existence Inverse of impotent if interested Heaven sent or 666 depends which you inquisit with Isn't it interesting, it's wrist with every citizen you're pit against On a mission With giant squids and seraphs with/ Crippling lividness giving ya the bus-iness Not too high but squib kickin ya off to the distances Gifted with the gritty gibberish Mystic misfit livin in a lit pilgrimage Off in the wilderness, grilling up a skillet of delicious fish So Accept your bewilderment from the articulate loud mouth Like ya crib had no corners ya get a round house That was stupid