Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Viktor Vaughn
Viktor Vaughn
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Daniel Dumile
Daniel Dumile
Songwriter
Matthew James Schmitz
Matthew James Schmitz
Songwriter
Nathanial W. Gosman
Nathanial W. Gosman
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Heat Sensor
Heat Sensor
Producer
Marc-Dieter Einstmann
Marc-Dieter Einstmann
Mastering Engineer
Nathanial W. Gosman
Nathanial W. Gosman
Engineer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Confirmation of your worst fears
Ever since his first years had a thirst for beers
Back from the future, it'll make you more sober
And brought back a list of fakers who crossed over
[Verse 2]
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?
Then I newly remaster while being truly plastered
[Verse 3]
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
[Verse 4]
Don't bore me with the glory hallelujah
Crews be like fooey, it's all a bunch of hooey
I knew he had new G, who he?
Viktor Vaughn, he had a new sicker song
I think he called it Lickupon
[Verse 5]
Um, but uh, he study rhymes and patterns
Climb so steep, sometimes the beat don't be mattering
Sounding like a half dead from scurvy band rock
A programmed, computer bio-grafted Herbie Hancock
[Verse 6]
Maybe next life he'll try harder
Died a martyr at the hands of the fire starter
All scripts ripped, available for via barter
Transport the stack to the lab via charter
[Verse 7]
On the microphone he came to daze and amaze you
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
[Verse 8]
Enough with the guns already
They all toys and lames
The joy's in the aim
He asked him, how's your poison game?
Do you bust your crossbow?
Also, more so, accurate body blows to torso
Thought so
[Verse 9]
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
[Verse 10]
V bring the beef like a trucker to Fuddrucker
Delivery to all y'all motherfuckers and bloodsuckers
Copping more pleas than when a rap **** bicker on
And that's my word is bond, I think he call it Lickupon
[Verse 11]
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 you, wait till he tell you about the flying saucer
[Verse 12]
Dang, the kickback will leave your wig ragged
For a big bag of good grizzle and some zig zag
Survival, keep a rival in denial
And bust what he get just for coming out his pie-hole
[Verse 13]
Die calmer than a suicide bomber
V just the type to do a who-ride with mama
Said to James Bond, my name is Viktor, Viktor Vaughn
Told the chick the quickest way to get on, Lickupon
Written by: Viktor Vaughn
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out