Tabby – Morissette Freestyle Lyrics

  • Tabby-–-Morissette-Freestyle-Lyrics

“Morissette Freestyle by Tabby”

Twiddle thumbs, take a bite outta cuticles
Decide on suicide over 9 to 5 in cubicle
Like eenie-miney-moe, catch this tiger while he dangling
So cynical, his silhouette is Anakin ending Return of Jedi (uh)
Observation has died

Details go unnoticed while the planet cry for Senpai
Let’s raise a fist, switch a pistol for nostalgic option
I’d watch the news if mass attacks were with a Sock’em Bopper
Nah, keep pointing finger at the real culprit
Mental health bought a sickle so it reap proper
New monicker for thoughts & prayers “grief coupon”
S– sells but death on sale, so keep shoppin’
And by golly, everyday is Black Friday

To these monarchs who all forgot to migrate
Stick a post-it over webcam, we are not safe
Check faucet for a wire and take Tom off your Top 8
They ain’t playing it fair, good thing conspiracy in
Like fur coat made of Berenstain Bear

Uninspired till squat popped on a kerosene chair
Struck match then practiced patience for that triple dog dare (huh)
Nothin’ cause more cacophony than silence
Them thoughts you fought
Now showin’ off a cockney dialect
Populous agree that politics are overrated
Too bad new pumpkin frap probably pause that conversation
Y’all vegans in a deli, quit contradicting
Or I’ll beat you senseless with a selfie-stick
And to finish off this jellyfish

I’ll go for spine to fetishize irony of a petty b—-
Y’all cannot tell me s—
Rhymes with my saliva causing sudden rise in Celsius
We get it baby booms, youth glued to cellphone screens
I too miss when half apps meant Tuesday at an Applebee’s
But kids texting while y’all fracking for gasoline
And covered that up with a f—–’ movie ’bout emojis
Coinkydink? I think not, ’cause goodness me
You catch spotlight, then like

“We need another keynote Steve!”
Hey dumbass, he deceased
As trust in branches, y’all the plant that Seymour feeds
At night, I write this chicken scratch
By day, the kid a telepath
Locate who swept the facts
And catch a snitch like Eleven’s last Quidditch match (uh)
Brown-nosers stay sniffing crack
And kissing cheek like they missed their chance for gettin’ a–
You want more than that?

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