Cumulonimbus Cerebrum

[Intro: Whipstick, Mr 8 Legz]
Yo, doesn’t that sound like “Dinner Date”?
Why the fuck would this be “Dinner Date,” dude?
I don’t know, so people could stop asking us where Dubbs is
No, stop it

[Verse 1: Mr 8 Legz, Whipstick]
Ayatollah of bipolar
With a mind full of crimes, snortin’ lines, Rock & Rye cola
Motherfucker’s got a rhyme quota! Shut the fuck up, dude, it rhymes sorta
I’m just wasting time to– Yo, it’s right here, shh
Cosplay idea, let’s turn your body to a knife holder
Attend your wake simply to supply Folgers
I’m a nice sorta guy, crossing lines, so define borders
You get a piece of my mind, they’ll find yours quartered
I won’t waste words, until the names heard
One-eighty your fuckin’ heads, call that shit a face turn (Haha)
It’s torture, not sex, bitch, there ain’t a safe word
Me and Whip will take turns filling you up with tapeworms
Luchaflorida, bet your visit’s terrible
Prepare to bury the bearers that carried you to burial
Hope that’s what you wanted, getting Legz like you’re Ariel
Flames, mermaids on burning stakes, yo we’re unbearable
Nails in your eyes like the guy died hammered
Crack that joke and then glare at the bystanders
Like, nobody laughed? What the fuck? Y’all got high standards?
Now I’m beating the crowd to death in front of like nine cameras, ‘cause

[Chorus: Mr 8 Legz, Whipstick]
I keep my head in these clouds (Head in these clouds)
But it’s not my fault that it’s storming right now (Storming right now)
It’s always pouring, more than important
Heed the warning when the thoughts are swarming
It’s lights out when it hits the ground, and that *thunder* sounds
Nobody’s safe when we open these clouds

[Verse 2: Mr 8 Legz]
It seems like a lot of people see me in a certain light
Like I hate absolutely everything, and they’re right
Fucking out-of-shape Chino XL lookalike
Track him out of state, leave him shook like I took his bike
Book a flight pull up to his next appearance
Like a bull in a liquor store, just there to break spirits
Make the cocksucker a dead man, just peep his lyrics
Regurgitatin’ the dead homies like nobody would hear it
What the fuck?

[Verse 3: Whipstick]
Oh God, look, you’re at it again
Online, cryin’, wilin’ out, tryin’ to pretend
Like you got a little audience, cock meat condiments
I’ll show you where the condom is while riding the fist
Fuck a CM Punk, why you ride for the next camp
I mean that, cunt, hope that dying is your next plan
‘Cause you’re not getting any younger by the day to day
Might as well just disappear, hang it up, fade away

[Chorus: Mr 8 Legz, Whipstick]
I keep my head in these clouds (Head in these clouds)
But it’s not my fault that it’s storming right now (Storming right now)
It’s always pouring, more than important
Heed the warning when the thoughts are swarming
It’s lights out when it hits the ground, and that *thunder* sounds
Nobody’s safe when we open these clouds

[Verse 4: Whipstick]
It’s time you held the string while we’re flying a kite
Like a sci-fi adventure where lightning striking you twice
We light you up with the gamma ray, something gave you a bite
Except you’re not a superhero, that’s a drunken succubus
That’s right, you’re not a scary villain, even tatted up
Your children call your feminine wondering if you’re dad enough
You’re poking at a sleeping bear dreaming until it’s had enough
I didn’t wanna stab you, you seem to want it bad enough, though (Haha)
Run it back, ho, or run the bag, ho
In the fog in the backyard where I stash those
Those who wanna test Whip, throw you on a test kit
That you cough in that I finely lined it with asbestos
You killin' the game, I put a drill in your brain
And then I leave you outside while you fillin’ with rain
And turbulence is what you get when you feelin’ my pain
I’m like a cumulonimbus when breaking through to your plane (Haha!)

[Chorus: Mr 8 Legz, Whipstick]
I keep my head in these clouds (Head in these clouds)
But it’s not my fault that it’s storming right now (Storming right now)
It’s always pouring, more than important
Heed the warning when the thoughts are swarming
It’s lights out when it hits the ground, and that *thunder* sounds
Nobody’s safe when we open these clouds

[Skit: Whipstick, Mr 8 Legz, Kyle Moore, Arby’s employee]
Anything else for you?
Yeah, and if you could just make sure that that drink has no ice in it, because if you put ice in it, then it gets watered down, ‘cause I don’t wanna drink it all at once, and it’s cold enough when it comes out of the machine, so just please don’t put ice in it, and also can you make sure that that bun is a regular sesame seed bun? I don’t like the French dried tomato onions
What?
And yo, can you, uh, add a buffalo chicken slider to that, please?
Album, do you want anything?
He doesn’t want anything!
What can I eat? I’m a literal disc
Oh, well fuck me for asking, right?
I will stuff my finger so far in that hole in the middle of you, dude
Fuck off
What? What? No
Fuck you
Fuck you! I swear to God I’m gonna shove this fuckin’ Arby’s sandwich in your–
Fuck you
Fuck you!
Get back to your happy-go-lucky self-loathing bullshit
Fuck you, dude!
That’s your job to play it, motherfucker!
What’s going on?