Lil Jul - Arcade Boss

MJ got more moves than you
Lebron James we gon shoot a hoop
Now trust me I don't play with fuckwits
Now trust me I don't get fucked up
Your 10th shot you gon get fucked up
What you give out mate, you go get you go get it back aye
And I hold my own, you are just a wanker
Your screws undone, lemme give you one spanner
Lil Jul not to be fucked with
Bitch you read the banner
Bitch now give me head nickname you bandana
Bitch I'm fly as fuck call me call me prepeller
Repellant for a roach, I think you need a coach
My ego bigger than Coachella
Bring you the fire like mozzarella
Melt on you in the rain like Rihanna
That is 2007 Rihanna
He's a walking stick cuz I can't stand ya
Lemme abort you cuz I ain't planned ya
Respect is what money didn't buy ya
Bitch you got to earn it
I'm Ramasay but I'm on the bridge now bout to burn it
Put your sunscreen on bitches I am being shady
And I love Marshall Mathers like a stan
So I'm addicted to the craft
Bitch I put a spell on ya
If I was at woolies never gonna greet you
While you grabbing your baked beans
I put a trolley right thru you
And I put my number twos in the air I don't make no peace
I made your bed now lie in it I call it rest in peace
Bitch you crossed the line I'm running shit just like a lease
I'll respect you more if you can show me least
Of human decency to admit your wrongs or else you'd be deceased
I don't want no beef but I gon make the cease
I know I got my fans waiting for my next release
Hand me the mix bitch I don't need your stage I just need the next banger I just gon Release
I'm not smashing bottles brother but I know you're pissed
So lemme put my number twos in the air

Ready or not
Oh you may
Oh be afraid
Or be ashamed
Or be untamed
It won't matter in the end
Like the wind
Blow away
In the arcade
It be final boss in hell (Inhale)

Written by:
Julian Cheung

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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