Saturday, Sunday, for miles around
Saturday, Sunday, not much sound
Saturday, Sunday, for miles around
Saturday, Sunday, not much sound
Maddie the villain, I keep it surreal
Twist my mustache, make it bend like steel
Get the fuck back 'cause I pack the steel
Seems fake but it's real like electric eels
So what the heck's the deal with these fake-ass foes?
Keep acid on my tongue, make it decompose
You see my clothes, I'm draped in paisley
I sniff the rose, y'all push the daisies
And when I blow smoke y'all know what it's laced with
You fools want a tool, take fifty paces
If you think I'm cool, that's cool but face it
You couldn't be me even if we switched places
Shit talk sounds inaudible, the way that I lick shots
I call my fucking pistols my popsicles
M80, I aim to please
They try to aim at me, but only in the land of make-believe
Living in a chocolate ice cream land
Living in a chocolate ice cream land
Living in a chocolate ice cream land
Down, down the road
Love goes where Madison goes
I'm at the shows, I don't rap, I just float and glow
They ask how she does it, but no one knows
Like when the wine-glass shatters and there's no one's home
I got a crystal pistol with amber trim
Wrap it in my fist, bullets that can cut through rims
The velvet grip, the ruby scope
I'm not talking 'bout drugs when I shoot the dope
I'm not talking 'bout drugs when I drop the acid
Rappers act hard, but they melt like plastic
They talk sheets like a bunch of fabric
And when there's no beats, they just rock the static
They freak at black magic
The laugh the track and tip a line to stop the fragments
But that was just a dream
They try to fuck with me, but only in the land of make-believe
Living in a chocolate ice cream land
Living in a chocolate ice cream land
Living in a chocolate ice cream land
Down, down the road
