The company was basically a learn-as-they-go process for Vineyard and Walker, who brought in friends from the music, wrestling and paranormal communities to contribute in various ways. They bought better equipment, got better at their craft and even signed to a Netflix development deal last December. The more they got involved in the nurturing of a potential Netflix project, the more they understood just what an opportunity they had to be the captains of their own ship. After Vineyard sounded off on social media about President Trump in June, however, he and Walker lost their development partner, and the Netflix deal, he said, seems dead.
[Verse 2: Danny!]Hi! It's D. and The BeatmakerPlease take a seat in the rearMake way for the bestFifteen men on a dead man's chestSpent sixteen yen on a Stedman dressYes, the king of non-sequiturs is backBack with a brand new trackWatch the online editors attackUnderpaid snakesFake as a steak on a Rubbermaid plateHave you seen my reviews?Jesus, these G's is confusedWouldn't know a good record if it bit 'em in their asparagusHad a therapist onceCut her off when she called the kid an arrogant cuntThat's the third time this happened this weekFlipped her the bird, choked the cat in the sleepAnd beat the pussy upDouble entendreTrouble man cuddled with a couple blond SandrasAnd Sonya from the Bronx with the ganjaKeeps prank-calling my phone, I don't answerAs-Salamu alaykumRobbed the kid's hospital, lots of tonsils takenHey now, you wanna see?Got it for the low-low, PayPal the funds to meBlack market pimpin'Catch me in the booth in the back of Martha's VineyardIf I ain't there tell 'em Arthur sent yaGot a good discount on them hearts and dentures, yepStreet peddler for realSynagogue boss hog with secular appeal, oh
Do or die pimpin ain t dead zip
[Verse 2]I wasn't raised wrong, I got off the pathTerrorizing my class in a Mothra maskAt 17 I was pissin' off my dadAnd stuck a gay porn mag in his Kaufmann bagMy mama found it and she tossed his assOut of the house, threw spaghetti sauce across his backAnd attacked him with a moss-colored faucet rackHe started coughin', gagged and he lost his graspOn my mom's apron, she starts spacin'She gave him more kicks than those found in Lebron's basementMore fist-to-nose than Henry Clark gave Sonny ListonWith blows, she laid him on pavementMama maimed him, tamed him, proclaimed him dead'Til I ran up and admitted that I framed himThey both laughed and they said "Oh Danny!You and your pranks, that's why you're our favorite in the family"
[Verse]Cravin' to bone laid up with Raven-Symone nakedMade a clone paid him to spray the cologne fragranceHe never came through, useless helpIf you want something done you gotta do it yourselfOpen up, open up and let the funk flow inSmoke enough coconut to make you punch Joe FlynnFrom "McHale's Navy"Does he ring any bells? MaybeBeen dead for thirty years I bet he smells crazyToo bad I pissed away the money Dave Chappelle paid meMy doctor bills are through the roof I'm gettin' pale dailyI pop some pills to end it all like 10 or 12 babyE-mailed my lady let her know I got to hell safelyWait, I think there's been a mistakeSomebody must have went and spiked the kid's Dominican cakeSo box up all of my cinnamon and send it to KateYou got a problem you can vent at my wakeThey say the good die youngI guess these grimey niggas live a long timeBut me and grimey niggas get along fineMan we all tryin' to come up, sundown to sunupRun 'round the dump trucks and gun down you dumb fucksUgh, gee that hook was horridI think I'll see if Mama Bear can re-cook the porridgeShe'd rather meet me at the Casbah for tapasSo I can help her understand the "Fa Fa" synopsis
[Verse 2]Meth fiend, breath cleanFresher than Seth GreenGeoff Beene attireFly as MacBeth's queenUgh, when D. Swain get on the micHe bring the game to lifeMaking beautiful noiseCreating the soundtrackJust for you and your boys, uhD. Swizzy knows how to get busySo don't be actin' stuck up and nitpickyYou don't wanna danceShut the fuck up and sit prettyIf rap's dead then I'm the resurrectorCatch me, Studio B, the seventh sectorOut to get the cookies and ransack Nabisco+Ramen+ gets me goin', +Panic! at the Disco+I get applause without the metaphorsThat these other cats use as a crutchI'm very bored, good LordI know it really hurts my dearSo I'ma end this verse right hereNow where's the chorus?
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