I have no idea what I’m doing
I have no idea what I’m doing, but

Everybody get up, sit up Christopher
They’re miserable without you, Superman is a-
-live and he’s flowing like the Mystic River
Girl don’t act like you never been kissed before
One, two, three, four, five, six, this a
Rhyme is about to hit you right in the kisser
How did anybody ever find me, I disap-
-peared I was hiding in Freeway’s beard, just a
Hop skip and a jump from my skin, gushing
Nails into my face that I been pushing
Hell-raiser, my face is my pincushion
It’s like when I’m on the mic, I can squish a
Sucker like a vice-grip, my pen put ya
In the slaughterhouse cause ya styles been butchered
I’ll spin chainsaw, take off like the blades on
My brain’s on hyperdrive someone put the brakes on

Here’s a smidget admitted to get your digits, Bridget
Don’t try to fidget with it, err ribbit, ribbit
I got ya slipping on my swag juice, my swag juice
I got ya slipping on my swag juice, my swag juice

I got it figure out now nigga
See, my my mind’s right, money right
Can’t nobody stop it how I getting it
In hindsight I never should have left while I was living
I probably wouldn’t be getting pressed by all these women
But then again, I wouldn’t met the ones that I was diggin’
So annihilate the looking, talk a lot though she like, “Look: Kim’n, Kim’n.”
Uh, Serena Williams, just like my daddy chucks I’m all related to Charles Dickens
This commie talkin’ ’bout how she pregnant, she craze me, so I manly crushed that hoe, and left baby
I don’t never trust her, no shit! Even if she specialize in mouth-massaging my testicles
I never trust her, a whole lot, even on the first date we made, she’s basic getting her mouth rimmed
And turned around and asked me for a kiss, no bitch I’m straight
I never really get concerned with how my own dick tastes
I think I’m about to slip on my swag juice
I think I’m about to slip on your swag juice
Oh, no! No! Don’t slip on your swag juice
Ye, ye! I think I’m about to slip on my swag juice

Here’s a smidget admitted to get your digits, Bridget
Don’t try to fidget with it, err ribbit, ribbit
I got ya slipping on my swag juice, my swag juice
I got ya slipping on my swag juice, my swag juice

Slim is in the house, simmer down there sister
Bound to get you dizzy cause he gets as busy as a
Bee, baby you can throw a frizbee in a blizzard
He’ll catch it in his teeth, what is he? He’s a wizard
Standing in the disco with a disco biscuit
And I’m pretty sure it isn’t Bisquick, is it?
Now baby don’t forget to bring your lipstick with ya
I want a kiss ‘fore I blow this bitch to smithe-
-reens, get the guillotines, this is a situ-
-ation that’s critical as Dre spins his, uh
Turntables and he cuts a record like a scissor
Cheka chicka, checka chicka, cheka-cheka chicka
Who wreck it in a second tell me what the heck is sicker
Wait a minute, I just dropped my necklace in the liquor
Now baby just to make a little breakfast and it’s six o-
-clock in the morning ‘less you want to get some dessert