Lyrics: Winnifred Puterbaugh
Music: Winnifred Puterbaugh
I'm rapping as hard as Christmas wrapping paper
My bars, they are dropping faster than this bass pumping
My legs, are rushing
Don't make me laugh
Horses mushing
My blood is gushing through my body
And I am, running from somebody
Woohoo
Yeah, freestyle
f-f-f-f-freestyle
I'm never staring at tiny little, little pegs
And my legs, they are used for kicking kegs
Partying all night, yeah
My fight was quite bright, like the light shining back into my sight, yeah
Into my, mighty, fight, yeah
Anyway
We are freestyling
Back on my feet, there's a sheep
With a picture of me
Popping in style
That was worthwhile
That's a timetable
I'm not able, to slide
Yeah, yeah
Dropping and popping
With Covid, is flopping
And the internet bars are now copping and bopping
No, you're not my enemy
Nor my project, capable of that unstable entity
I wasn't aware that birthday was on the day of my calendar of May
I must be strong enough
To pull that car, step by step first
Oh, I guess that's fast
This is the end, yeah
This is the end
Yeah
It might be the end, yeah
it might be, it might be just the end
Throwing the song away
Into the parties name, yeah
You need a lot of fame to belong to the school playing game
Oh yeah, in the end I was just joking
It's going longer
Way longer
You need to drop a whop in this cup
The challenge is coming close to the end
You think, I'm stranding on this island?
So I'm using the flare gun
A desert temple
I'm unable to walk, walk, walk, walk, walk, walk, walk, walk, walk
It's over now, yeah