Lickupon

Confirmation of your worse fears
 Ever since his first years had a thirst for beers
 Back from the future, it'll make you more sober-er
 And brought back a long list of fakers who crossed over
 I'm like, fuck it, bubble-baller
 Catch 'em up at Bob's show, stall him with a troubled caller
 Bastard, who could make G's faster
 Than a newly re-mastered while being truly plastered
 There's four sides to every story
 If these walls could talk, they'd probably still ignore me
 Contemplate war over a cup of warm coffee
 It's really getting gory, tell your problem to Maury
 Don't bore V with the "glory, hallelu-ey"
 Crews be like, foo-ey he's just a buncha hoo-ey
 I knew he had new G, who he? Viktor Vaughn
 He had a new sicker song, I think he call it "Lickupon"
 Um, but uh, he study rhymes and patter-ins
 Climb so steep sometimes the beat don't be mattering
 Sounded like a half-dead from Scurvy band rock?
 A programmed, computer bio-grafted Herbie Hancock
 Maybe next life he'll try harder
 Died a martyr at the hands of the fire-starter
 More scripts ripped available for via barter
 Transport a stack to the lab via charter
 On the microphone he came to daze and amaze ya'
 What a guy, practice banging flies with razors
 And watch out for the robot, he got eyes with lasers
 Tell 'em when they come with more topics besides blazers
 Enough with the guns already, they're all toys and lames
 The joy's in the aim, he asked him, how's ya' poison game?
 Do you bust your crossbow? Also, more so
 Accurate body blows to torso, thought so
 These flows you won't find in no "how-to"
 If the blacksmith doubt you, he smack the shit out you
 Make nothing gone, let nothing twitch
 Just don't be near the mic when the on-button switch
 V bring the beef like a trucker to Fuddrucker
 Delivery to all y'all motherfuckers and bloodsucker
 Coping more pleas than when a rap nigga bicker on
 And that's my word is bond, I think he call it "Lickupon"
 Um, he wrote this one with a fever sick in bed
 With his dickhead inside a chicken head
 No, a dead chicken's head, he said it help his nausea
 If he lost ya', wait 'til he tell you about the flying saucer
 Dag, the kickback'll leave your wig ragged
 For a big bag of good grizzle and some zigzag
 Survival, keep a rival in denial
 And bust what he got just for coming out his pie-hole
 Die calmer than a suicide-bomber
 V just the type to do a hoo-ride with momma
 Said to James Bond, my name is Viktor, Viktor Vaughn
 Told the chick the quickest way to get on, Lickupon