Popsnot lyrics

[Intro: sampled dialogue]
"Hey, Vik, I've been going over some of your notes and I'm afraid you're a couple of decimal points off on some of your figures"
"Out! I have no time for you"
"Okay! Find out for yourself!"

[Verse 1: Viktor Vaughn]
It lasts longer if you take a picture, it's Viktor the Slickster
I pick her, sip Schlitz Malt Liquor
Still up in the mixture like a fixture
Y'all seen the sticker with the sick filling: "VIKSTA"
He stacks chips by any which way
And keep black lips, f*ck what any b*tch say
It ain't no time for no tit-for-tat
Y'all better aim for the head, just don't hit the fitted hat
When it's his time to go, it's his time to go
As for right now though – 'The Hour Show' rhyme flow
He got more of those that lines for dime hoes
That act fancy, with more clothes than Delancey
Don't let him house you out on Houston
Or catch you downtown on Broadway, browsing
Whoever got the most bags get followed
Give it up or get you and the old hag hollowed
"Smash!" It's Viktor the Slickster

[Chorus: samples]
"Watch out!"
"Smash!"
"Watch out!"
"Watch out!"
[Verse 2: Viktor Vaughn]
It's like limbo, how low can you go?
V go lower than your bimbo panty-hose
Damn yo, I say that's pretty damn low
In the city streets with more ammo than Rambo
"Hambone" – y'all don't want V in it
Make the coolest cat p*ss his Coogi in a minute
When he blow and get ballin' at the top slot
20 G's a head for whoever's calling cop shot
Kack, kack, kack, kack, kack—popsnot

[Chorus: samples]
"Watch out!"
"Watch out!"
"Watch out!"
"Smash! You ain't seen sh*t yet"
"Smash!"

[Verse 3: Viktor Vaughn]
Tender-headed, get they wig split with 'Fro Sheen
V manufacture gum cleaning kits for Podine
Party people ask him, "How you so mean
And still quiet? Could it be the codeine in your diet?"
I'm like, "What I look like? A doctor?!"
Let the pork stop, I got the clear meat, the vodka
Cork tops, step up the hustle like the new guy
Gun bustin' and drugs, the penalties' too high
Makes you wonder who they speak for
It's only one side benefiting off the street war
And it's heat galore, just to make it badder
Many gone stab they own man up, like Jacob's Ladder
I still worry when I'm out on the hop hot
Drill a ill flurry that might pop your knot
I fill the Bill Murray, get more run than The Wop got
Shop for a yacht (*glouckpp!*) — popsnot
*glouck*... *glouck*... *glouck*