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about
A coruscating hide of stone-dialed Piagets adorns Pot Man's arms as he throws off his vicuña paletot. His lips, curled in a triumphant sneer, reveal the vitreous glint of his incisors; his inlaid canines are outlined in gold. The shadowy faction tailing him has begun to make itself known, and he primes his weapons in anticipation.
lyrics
LYRICS:
Prepare the spot
Y'all compare me to a theropod a lot
Panera pockets got me terracotta Lobbs
Spot me opposite the parasol, tarragon and lox
Heir to Tom Lehrer, Terror Squad, Pac and Darabont
Spot a baller blocker and I'm cockin' thereupon
I'm a walking bearer bond
I'm clockin' 'em, Barry Bonds
I'm that motherfucker Marijuana Pot
Okay, my flow colder than a bomb pop
Show up in a blond fox
Braun watch
I might drown when I lick her up, call me Bon Scott
Got her looking something like a Cinnabon box
Mister Jimmy John Pot, I been slayin' 'em hoes
My teeth are antique Faberge and Limoges
Bitches come state to state just to play in my clothes
Tell a motherfucker what I say and it goes
Too many furs in my coat: I can't go past zoos
And if she's no nomad, I'll make your hoe mad too
Who got a topaz tooth, and gold leaf on every talon?
Keeping green tea by the gallon?
My trou' lethally endowed, beat the beat around a bit
Seize a counterfeit and breeze 'em out quick
The Marijuana Pot Man, goddammit, I'm the shit
Got that embryonic salmon on my wrist
I flipped every Naugahyde divan at auction, hammered off of Schlitz
Atlanta shoppin', rattan walking sticks
Anaconda grips on them shits, tan Lagonda shift
Caught wind of me and thought I was a myth
I keep 'em ill at ease
Fillin' up manilas with a mill' apiece
Milanese filigree, Florentine silk
Spill a motherfucker with the quarantine quill, then I...
credits
released May 22, 2018
Production: Remington Iron
Vox: The Marijuana Pot Man (w/ Remi ad-libs)
Art: Aidan Collins