TSAR BOMBA Lyrics – JPEGMAFIA

Read the full TSAR BOMBA lyrics by JPEGMAFIA from the album EXPERIMENTAL RAP along with the music video, song credits, release information and other details about the song. If you enjoy Jpegmafia’s music, you can also explore GYBB and The 1st Amendment, two other songs by Jpegmafia.

[Part I]

[Verse 1]
Every time I spit, b!tch, it’s Christmas
Michelin in the kitchen, my b!tch cleaning dishes
Wrapping up the presents, no major with millions
Origin is villainous, DOOM in the spirit
Light you up like kerosene, Peggy a terrorist
Find her at the Sheraton, beats giving you instant relief, my s*it Claritin
Shot ugly, but it’s still go in Shawn Marion
Waste a b!tch time, make her spend her inheritance
My b!tch switch stylists, yours switch like Ms. Garrison

Too deep, she running routes like Marvin Harrison, wow
Shots to the body, she throw in the towel
I put gold on that boy head like Meowth
Most of thеse weapons, they camе from the South
I miss having gold in my mouth
My neck is what will you put down on a—

[Verse 2]
Your ex only want rapper d!ck in her mouth
So I took my turn and I threw that b!tch out
My new b!tch worth more than me, I’m bumming in her house
I rest until millis, still sleep on the couch
Look, I cannot help if I turn your b!tch out
N!gga, how is you broke with no d!ck and you proud? (Bro)

[Part II]

[Verse]
Ayy, throw that b!tch back in the pot, let it boil
Know these Kel-Tec extensions don’t got no recoil
She be sniffing white b!tches, her name De La Hoya
She a cannibal, all of this Betty White on me
I choke you out in an Accord in a cordless
You know a flopper, Ric Flair in the corner (Bro)
B!tch, I’m snatching them dreads and you getting a facelift

That fabric cannot help the way that your face is
It’s icy out here in these streets, gotta face it
The ice on me worth more than what you was taking
I fu*ked her, you kissed her, she ripe for the taking
I’m cooking up drama and serving the bacon
You knew that petty full-blooded Jamaican
Need voodoo to kill me, b!tch, I might be Haitian
I’m Julio Foolio when I get to aiming
Why would I fu*k you? B!tch, look at my b!tch
You came from guap, only one of us rich
I cannot help you, you know what you did
Cut off your hand, that’s a slap on the wrist
Can’t clap for no n!gga that’s slapping a b!tch
I’m laughing at you ’cause yo’ man in a ditch
I hop in the booth and spit truth over clicks
They mad at the truth so they lying to kick it
Ha, gimme that s*it, n!gga

[Outro]
Oh yeah, boy