Yung Schnooty Yung Link lyrics
Yung Link
Yung Schnooty
GENRE
I hit the pot and drop a jewel like I’m Yung Link
“Don’t run around dumbing”, call him a pundit
An expert in a particular subject
Who then gives his views to the public
That girl’s an alien to me but really what’s that mean
She get dirty in the grass, she neon green
We left a few crop circles people call red herrings
But just then you ask where in the hell you’ll be transferred
They never answer, gotta get back to your classroom
All in an orderly fashion
All I’m thinking is the professor’s got a back end
Like the Kardashian, Kim, ahh, that ass man
You get called on, yet, you didn’t even hear the question
Cause you was looking at the desk and-
. .Daydreaming bout flexing
Now you better head back to the restroom, yeah
Now take a real seat, cause, class is in session
You’re bout to hear it from the Master Eleven, A
That’s only if we speakin’ in Chaldee
If not, I got cerebral palsy, listen
I faced you that way for a reason, don’t be stare at me doggy
If I had to do it to you, we can’t go for a walk ya
Need a robot, for that, and a leash, yeah
When you wanna go out and bout in the streets
It’s goin be like that, if you don’t take action
We goin hit you with that brrtbrrt and y’all lay quick
Ahhhhhhhhh, and that’s it
Goin’ have me paying later in life but thats it, I cash in
Let’s get it
Big Schnooty got a big “headache”
That’s how I used to say it and I never could get it
When I was a kid but I guess I heard different
So now I can hear, wait, I don’t get heard? Huh?
Ok, I don’t get heard, I’m not a sheep
And while y’all sleep, Imma get busy
Spit frees and mix beats
And I get dizzy like I’m on tea-cups
At the fucking Universal rides and you be what?
You be slumpt
Yeah I said it before, but I’m at the trunk
That’s the fucking root of the core
Yeah, I gotta score
Gotta get big game, Big Bucky on the stage
Yeah, I don’t need me no page, nah
I don’t need me no page, nah
I don’t need me no page
I don’t even need to lay lyrics, think ‘em don’t say em
Not reading nothing, still come out right
Y’all could never do it how I did it in your life
Really though, because you’ll never live it
And I never get little game because that’s a scrimmage
Rap Game’s a gimmick, I can’t be in it, listen
What they really actually spittin’
Nothin, but bogus, they wanna see the whole fuckin
Corrupted system collapse in it’s own
Pyramid and get buried as a little kid
In a dead man’s chest, damn
Haven’t we already been buried in sin?
For long enough, our ancestors have been going through this
And now we gotta do it again?
I said it before, I’ll say it some more
You don’t have to hit send they already read it before
Gun talk telepathy
Unlock our weaponry
Freedom with lyrical sorcery
I called for the lockdown, yeah I-I'm D-oor-Key
Don’t be a bully though, tryna act forcefully
Or Imma have your eye exactly where my fork be
Shift the plates on the Earth, write a letter to the president
Like Einstein did but was it relevant?
Nah, they still dropped that bomb
Hit the stem for the coco go drop that palm
Here’s a needle and a record you could drop that on
Steady for the years to come, go head and rock that song
The golden voices of snitches suffice to say are no longer with us
Can’t flow or rhythm, so they go play their Quidditch
Mr. Means to an End, soon to be an M-Maker
The bars tend to be legendary like wind waker
A drink shaker, with Ice, yeah a mixer
How I’m getting down, I’m a spitter
Real lyrics, straight off the top
Like pesticides when we land on your crops
The anthem is deadly
The outcome, of it all makes cancer seem friendly
When I was a boy, they used to call me young laborious
And I still get busy 'til this day I’m paying for it
They banned the link for “Kabbalah Koala”
And dropped they little Panda Tape come on, son
It’s Yung Schnooty
“Don’t run around dumbing”, call him a pundit
An expert in a particular subject
Who then gives his views to the public
That girl’s an alien to me but really what’s that mean
She get dirty in the grass, she neon green
We left a few crop circles people call red herrings
But just then you ask where in the hell you’ll be transferred
They never answer, gotta get back to your classroom
All in an orderly fashion
All I’m thinking is the professor’s got a back end
Like the Kardashian, Kim, ahh, that ass man
You get called on, yet, you didn’t even hear the question
Cause you was looking at the desk and-
. .Daydreaming bout flexing
Now you better head back to the restroom, yeah
Now take a real seat, cause, class is in session
You’re bout to hear it from the Master Eleven, A
That’s only if we speakin’ in Chaldee
If not, I got cerebral palsy, listen
I faced you that way for a reason, don’t be stare at me doggy
If I had to do it to you, we can’t go for a walk ya
Need a robot, for that, and a leash, yeah
When you wanna go out and bout in the streets
It’s goin be like that, if you don’t take action
We goin hit you with that brrtbrrt and y’all lay quick
Ahhhhhhhhh, and that’s it
Goin’ have me paying later in life but thats it, I cash in
Let’s get it
Big Schnooty got a big “headache”
That’s how I used to say it and I never could get it
When I was a kid but I guess I heard different
So now I can hear, wait, I don’t get heard? Huh?
Ok, I don’t get heard, I’m not a sheep
And while y’all sleep, Imma get busy
Spit frees and mix beats
And I get dizzy like I’m on tea-cups
At the fucking Universal rides and you be what?
You be slumpt
Yeah I said it before, but I’m at the trunk
That’s the fucking root of the core
Yeah, I gotta score
Gotta get big game, Big Bucky on the stage
Yeah, I don’t need me no page, nah
I don’t need me no page, nah
I don’t need me no page
I don’t even need to lay lyrics, think ‘em don’t say em
Not reading nothing, still come out right
Y’all could never do it how I did it in your life
Really though, because you’ll never live it
And I never get little game because that’s a scrimmage
Rap Game’s a gimmick, I can’t be in it, listen
What they really actually spittin’
Nothin, but bogus, they wanna see the whole fuckin
Corrupted system collapse in it’s own
Pyramid and get buried as a little kid
In a dead man’s chest, damn
Haven’t we already been buried in sin?
For long enough, our ancestors have been going through this
And now we gotta do it again?
I said it before, I’ll say it some more
You don’t have to hit send they already read it before
Gun talk telepathy
Unlock our weaponry
Freedom with lyrical sorcery
I called for the lockdown, yeah I-I'm D-oor-Key
Don’t be a bully though, tryna act forcefully
Or Imma have your eye exactly where my fork be
Shift the plates on the Earth, write a letter to the president
Like Einstein did but was it relevant?
Nah, they still dropped that bomb
Hit the stem for the coco go drop that palm
Here’s a needle and a record you could drop that on
Steady for the years to come, go head and rock that song
The golden voices of snitches suffice to say are no longer with us
Can’t flow or rhythm, so they go play their Quidditch
Mr. Means to an End, soon to be an M-Maker
The bars tend to be legendary like wind waker
A drink shaker, with Ice, yeah a mixer
How I’m getting down, I’m a spitter
Real lyrics, straight off the top
Like pesticides when we land on your crops
The anthem is deadly
The outcome, of it all makes cancer seem friendly
When I was a boy, they used to call me young laborious
And I still get busy 'til this day I’m paying for it
They banned the link for “Kabbalah Koala”
And dropped they little Panda Tape come on, son
It’s Yung Schnooty
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