lirik lagu yeahtim – the cleanest
[verse]
never take the plastic of my iphone, i am the cleanest
my tool box is empty cause i don’t really need it
my twin brother is so ugly, you wouldn’t believe it
when i grow up i wanna be jaden smith
too fly to land on any landing strips
go down under just to see the future
all of my raps are really just my bloopers
thinking the type of stuff that elevates the mind
in real life i’m awkward as an elevator ride
up all night writing, never up early
only kisses i get are from hersheys
mic in one hand, chocolate in the other
how’d i get so phat with the bars i wonder
you like this song in at least one parallel universe
in the ones you don’t i’m putting you in a he-rs-
i never even know how to put an end to a verse
i feel so naked without my clothes on
you only have l’s like broken headphones
find me in the streets l!cking my folded elbows
i’m a rapper on track discussing barber shops
if my hair hideous i’ll have the barber shot
don’t show up to my own birthday party, let ’em celebrate
my cerebellum the only thing i set to blaze
breaking my neck looking at the skyskrapers
then i look under my shoes like “hi, haters!”
fall tryna holla at a girl, i’m a very bad ice skater
but i got her chatting, that’s one h-ll of an ice breaker
my nonsense detector go off every time i try to talk
i’ll rip you apart cause you terrible, time you stop
i am not not underground, i am under the ground
literally in a coffin spittin’, deadly with the written
i dont do deadlines, i just dead you with the lines
i got vinyls, but you just collecting dust
mocking my own insecurities like “oh, you suck”
this is not concious rap, am just a concious rapping
my cat read my lines and started laughing
used to p-ss my bed, now why did i share that?
i’m just a lame internet rapper, go and share that
can’t sing, but got a bunch of notes, take notice like post-its
none of you are gods nor kings, theres only one and you’re not him
you sleeping on me and i envy you like nico and vinz
you’ve seen basketball, but you ain’t seen magic
i grind so much i sleep standing
deleted all my songs then recycle them months later
if i were a candy i’d have a bunch of flavors
not in a paradise, so i roll none
knock you out the park, that’s a homerun
talking ’bout real, you be real in a ditch
don’t need a hook to reel in the fish
there are hot singles in my area, for real
my hot singles cause hysteria, i’m sk!lled
throw b-tter on a fly, call it a b-tterfly
got no wings, but i fly, hop on, don’t be shy
the world is ours to mold as we go, peep my creation
but you can’t though, it’s my own, that’s my liberation
dont know where am going, looking forward to getting there
can’t fight my addiction to overthinking, but getting there
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