Babyeater - Studio Time (feat. Woolly Peaches) Lyrics

Hey Woolly, can you help me out with something?
Yeah, w-what's poppin' man?
Uh, nothing much, you got time right now?
Sure do, it's uh, studio time
Studio time? Like right now?
No, next week, you better hurry up, you're about to go on!
How soon dude?
Like right now!
Oh, let's see... I got it
They call me Babyeater 'cause I don't mess around (ay)
If you down to clown, I'm staying in your town
For the weekend baby, I get around (skrrt)
Beat got your booty moving up and down
Like Big Furr (in the building), shout out my boy Keaton (yuh)
Grooving to the flow, you're gonna get beaten (ha)
'Cause I pop your eardrums when the snares hit
Hogging the beat, never gonna share it (skrrt)
Like a used toothbrush, it's just not sanitary (haha)
There's no room for the two of us, in truthfulness
I'm more ruthless, believe me, nobody mourning ya
This shit tasty like alphabet soup (yum)
If you don't get it let me spell it out for you (ha)
B-A-B to the Y (huh), E-A-T-E-R, I'm the greatest so far
With no assist, most impactful lyricist of all time (true)
Damn right, I got a dark side like Vader (ha)
Bitch I'm made of bread, I'm a celiac killer (gluten)
Take cover Heidi, I'm scary like Thriller (whoo-hoo)
You can suck my dick if you are a hater
I'm in need of some studio time
They say time is money and I'm working off a dime
All I want to do is kick back and kick up rhymes
So I'm in the studio for studio time
I'm in need of some studio time
They say time is money and I'm working off a dime
All I want to do is kick back and kick up rhymes
So I'm in the studio for studio time, yeah
Sit down, shut up and eat, It's the
Italian Stallion with a sweet little treat, and by
Treat I mean verse, start booking your funeral and
Warm up the hearse, you'll be dead when I'm done with ya
The world knows I'm a hell of a battler
So stock up on your Flintstones Vitamins
I like my coffee with a little bit of cinnamon
I'm a helluva fiend, with or without caffeine
Boiling kettle, let me blow off my steam
Booty like mashed potatoes, who wants gravy?
Honey it's an easy yes no or maybe
Hurry it up, it's a simple decision
I cut rappers short like a circumcision
I'm the Woolliest Peachiest mamma jamma out there
I'm a smooth criminal (ow)
Kinda like a burgler, covered in, baby oil?
Yeah
Thanks for warming my throne, but I'm taking it back
How many times I gotta reinforce this thought in your head
That I'm the greatest artist in the 239 to ever
Come up on the scene and disrupt everything (true)
If you act like a child, I'm eating you up (ha)
But your music trash so I'm throwing you up
I bring the Mack like Craig, this some Flavor in Your Ear (ooh)
The way I'm making hits, I'm the rapper of the year, no fear
I face my competition with intensity
I don't have a car but I'm switching up gears like (skrrt)
Put your PJs on you're about to take a nap
Let me tuck in your girlie, I'll be out in a snap
So hush little baby don't say a word
Woolly's making rhymes that you've never heard
As for you, I'd sleep with your closet door closed
Boogie Man flow while I'm sneaking through your clothes
Mister Sandman, bring this bed wetter a dream
Turning on your nightlight, try not to scream
And then I came in his a-
Dude, why'd you cut out the beat I was gonna keep going
Dude, we're out of studio time
Out of studio time?
Yeah, the song's o-