Imposters

Im purging in Persia first nigga down
Is gonna be the prince long Jake Gyllenhaal
In my house where i sit
Over the balcony like Michael Jackson's son
Hear the king of POP as bullets fly
Out of pops guns
Straight hit's on my arsenal
Turn this Freaky Friday into a Bad Thriller
With the flick of a middle finger
Sippin' imaginary elixir
Heard this beat through the grapevine
Extra loops in my rhymes my fame lasts about
Seven seconds online
About as long as you wait
For your tampons and steaks
Leave you bitches bloody c's up
Little crippled chicken little crippin'
Sky might fall and that's word to Kid Cudi
Cuddle up with your thunder buddy calm down
The only Ted here is Bundy
Hes the one who cut the rope
While you was Bungie jumping
From Microsoft to Sony
Child Rebel Soldier, like P, Ye, and Kony
Grab you by your throat
And put a cancer hole in it
Shove my dick in it wasn't enough orifices
Or faces to break
Just to get my point across
Plottin' on a graph basic math
Got you bonus bogus niggas
Stepping off, signing off nigga