lirik lagu doctor rion. - sick
[verse 1]
feelin sicker than a f-ckin dog
and even iller than a pig with the flu of a hog
n-gga, my f-ckin nose has been f-ckin reclogged
like my vocab when my rhymes are on top
because i spit sh-t like an -ss with explosive diarreah
b-tch, you dont f-ckin know me, heres my f-ckin criteria
2 billion f-ckin views, makin psy feelin teary-eyed
this sh-t probably has 100
f-cker, i’m the sh-t, makin feces feel deprived
i’m surprised these n-ggas
have f-ckin sur-vived
when half of’em can’t even f-ckin’ pro-vide
for their f-ckin family, i’m the spot in mine
i shine for my own light
sometimes i feel f-ckin tight stranded
my life goes left, but i’m really f-ckin right handed
i’m f-ckin sick
yeah
[verse 2]
i’m a sick b-st-rd
i sneeze into my sleeve
i keep all the bad sh-t trashed at
a junkyard i call my brain, clash
made a loud -ss collision, maybe where these rhymes came to fathom
and when i rap them
my juices flow, so i trap them
and decap
the caps on a bottle of snap
p-l-e gulp the sh-t down, made of the best stuff on earth
sike, n-gga, im the best sh-t around
so i’m sippin on a bottle of me
need a lobotomy
i swear, my illness is gonna be the drop of me
got enough f-ckin heart to f-ckin stop the beat
and stop the heat
not the team
this d-mn cold, make these b-tches retreat
like robert e. lee on hallow-we-een
yeah, not givin any f-ckin candy
got a f-ckin war to win! f-ck wtb!
although i am sick, i’m still gonna get up, because i’m still pretty d-mn sl1ck
i’m a sick motherf-cker
like my dad when he was makin’ me
9 months later, he’s at a f-ckin job makin’ cheese
daddy made enough money
to raise a f-ckin family
little did they know they would have to raise a ragin’ beast
who would later go by rion, what a f-ckin’ little prodigy is he
but he’s feeling sickly
insane or crazy, thanks for the other meaning, urban dictionary
i’m an urban d-ck shun fairy
cause i’m fly, give her the d-ck, and avoid all the pr-cks
yeah, still f-ckin sick
is there even a cure for amazing?
don’t even know, man
uh
yeah
[verse 3]
called in sick for the third mothaf-ckin time
all these sevies waitin for my next mothaf-ckin rhyme
n-gga, i don’t even try to f-ckin mind
all these haters, they the enemies that i try
to make cry
usin’ force to knock these f-gs out, b-tch, i’m a f-ckin jedi
i’m the sword without the samurai
sharp as a f-cker, but independent as being alive with one d-mn eye
d-mn
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