It's Big Ben Man
Let's do this!
I'm that type of individual who might shift to rituals, if control seems to fly outside of his Peripherals
My Likeness is within a few miles of witnessed intervals of fire, and entire plentiful sires that sport the same attires of the guys you admire
And I'm just high as a kite, and I just keep getting flyer
And you a poser for the poster that we can't even find
How can I roast if it wasn't existing this whole time?
And as that stank face resonates on top of that blank plate,
I'm known to keep the foes in line, just ask your f*cking class mate
And if it's past 8, tell Bobby to get some gas, after he gets some snacks, and fills his gas tank
I'm that type of motherf*cker that don't f*ck with undercovers
My bitch asked me to f*ck, I said " I'm not f*cking under the covers."
I'm sort of a post-mortem summoner, so don't tell her brother
When I come up in summer, he'll probably think it's a bummer, honey
Nobody f*cking with my sweaters, my best sellers, my leather
I'm coming in with trends that sell better than shelter in wet weather
Who do it better than Big Ben?
I let your bitch use my dick as a kick stand
(You said you weren't motivated by revenge.)
(No.)
(I'm motivated by my duty.)
(No.)
( I think you're so blinded by inconsolable rage, that you don't care who you hurt.)
( When you can't tell your friends from your enemies, it's time to go.)
I'm locked up inside the stadium, I'm playing basses
I'll walk if any balls end up hitting my faces
Pause
I'm saying if any obstacles hop inside of my optical, I'll pop em', and knock em' out of field and run back to my casa
Off a pound of that za and yeah, I'm off to a haunted hill
Where nobody lives there, except the clowns who flaunt what's real
Clean like some dawn, and then it dawned upon me
I'd rather have nobody than fake brothers up in my posse
( When you cant tell your friends from your enemies, It's time to go)
It's time to go
Who would've known that this bro had so much cadence and flow?
Don't rush me, have some patience when I'm making this dough
You don't wanna pizza this
Get it?
I'm making this gas, It's premium and unleaded
I'm embedding my pencil in to extend from their cerebrum, so when you hear what I said, "um" will be the start, and the end of your next sentence
I'm over incentive, I'll over extend it
Sorry for the quick, and abrupt ending
( I think you're so blinded by inconsolable rage, that you don't care who you h-hurt.)
Big Ben - Maverick Freestyle Lyrics
Big Ben - Maverick Freestyle Lyrics
Official
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English
It's Big Ben Man
Let's do this!
I'm that type of individual who might shift to rituals, if control seems to fly outside of his Peripherals
My Likeness is within a few miles of witnessed intervals of fire, and entire plentiful sires that sport the same attires of the guys you admire
And I'm just high as a kite, and I just keep getting flyer
And you a poser for the poster that we can't even find
How can I roast if it wasn't existing this whole time?
And as that stank face resonates on top of that blank plate,
I'm known to keep the foes in line, just ask your f*cking class mate
And if it's past 8, tell Bobby to get some gas, after he gets some snacks, and fills his gas tank
I'm that type of motherf*cker that don't f*ck with undercovers
My bitch asked me to f*ck, I said " I'm not f*cking under the covers."
I'm sort of a post-mortem summoner, so don't tell her brother
When I come up in summer, he'll probably think it's a bummer, honey
Nobody f*cking with my sweaters, my best sellers, my leather
I'm coming in with trends that sell better than shelter in wet weather
Who do it better than Big Ben?
I let your bitch use my dick as a kick stand
(You said you weren't motivated by revenge.)
(No.)
(I'm motivated by my duty.)
(No.)
( I think you're so blinded by inconsolable rage, that you don't care who you hurt.)
( When you can't tell your friends from your enemies, it's time to go.)
I'm locked up inside the stadium, I'm playing basses
I'll walk if any balls end up hitting my faces
Pause
I'm saying if any obstacles hop inside of my optical, I'll pop em', and knock em' out of field and run back to my casa
Off a pound of that za and yeah, I'm off to a haunted hill
Where nobody lives there, except the clowns who flaunt what's real
Clean like some dawn, and then it dawned upon me
I'd rather have nobody than fake brothers up in my posse
( When you cant tell your friends from your enemies, It's time to go)
It's time to go
Who would've known that this bro had so much cadence and flow?
Don't rush me, have some patience when I'm making this dough
You don't wanna pizza this
Get it?
I'm making this gas, It's premium and unleaded
I'm embedding my pencil in to extend from their cerebrum, so when you hear what I said, "um" will be the start, and the end of your next sentence
I'm over incentive, I'll over extend it
Sorry for the quick, and abrupt ending
( I think you're so blinded by inconsolable rage, that you don't care who you h-hurt.)
Let's do this!
I'm that type of individual who might shift to rituals, if control seems to fly outside of his Peripherals
My Likeness is within a few miles of witnessed intervals of fire, and entire plentiful sires that sport the same attires of the guys you admire
And I'm just high as a kite, and I just keep getting flyer
And you a poser for the poster that we can't even find
How can I roast if it wasn't existing this whole time?
And as that stank face resonates on top of that blank plate,
I'm known to keep the foes in line, just ask your f*cking class mate
And if it's past 8, tell Bobby to get some gas, after he gets some snacks, and fills his gas tank
I'm that type of motherf*cker that don't f*ck with undercovers
My bitch asked me to f*ck, I said " I'm not f*cking under the covers."
I'm sort of a post-mortem summoner, so don't tell her brother
When I come up in summer, he'll probably think it's a bummer, honey
Nobody f*cking with my sweaters, my best sellers, my leather
I'm coming in with trends that sell better than shelter in wet weather
Who do it better than Big Ben?
I let your bitch use my dick as a kick stand
(You said you weren't motivated by revenge.)
(No.)
(I'm motivated by my duty.)
(No.)
( I think you're so blinded by inconsolable rage, that you don't care who you hurt.)
( When you can't tell your friends from your enemies, it's time to go.)
I'm locked up inside the stadium, I'm playing basses
I'll walk if any balls end up hitting my faces
Pause
I'm saying if any obstacles hop inside of my optical, I'll pop em', and knock em' out of field and run back to my casa
Off a pound of that za and yeah, I'm off to a haunted hill
Where nobody lives there, except the clowns who flaunt what's real
Clean like some dawn, and then it dawned upon me
I'd rather have nobody than fake brothers up in my posse
( When you cant tell your friends from your enemies, It's time to go)
It's time to go
Who would've known that this bro had so much cadence and flow?
Don't rush me, have some patience when I'm making this dough
You don't wanna pizza this
Get it?
I'm making this gas, It's premium and unleaded
I'm embedding my pencil in to extend from their cerebrum, so when you hear what I said, "um" will be the start, and the end of your next sentence
I'm over incentive, I'll over extend it
Sorry for the quick, and abrupt ending
( I think you're so blinded by inconsolable rage, that you don't care who you h-hurt.)
Writer: Benjamin Markus
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid