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Lil B & Chance The Rapper
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Last Dance BASED FREESTYLE
Yeah, welcome to this beautiful mixtape
Based freestyle
Chance the Rapper, Lil B yeah
This our fuckin' last chance
I'm goin' to the top bitch, this is the last dance
I got my hands open, lookin' to the sky like
Lord can you take me? I'm alright
I got my wings flyin', bitch I'm like a Red Bull
I knock niggas out the game, bitch this shit is full
I'm not full, I'm still hungry and shit
I got bitches on my shit, I'm not funny, it's rich
You feel me? (what's up bitch?)
That's why we so serious
And mothafuckas gotta stop, bitch I'm like a period
Or a comma cause these mothafuckas gotta take a pause
Or somethin'
I might hit 'em with the llama for frontin'
These mothafuckas gotta stick with me
Cause I don't know nobody but I know Lil B
And I don't hate nobody but I love BasedGod
It's mothafuckin' Chance the Rapper, what's up my Chi?
What's up?
What's up? You thought it was a joke
Til I come in - hocus pocus, with the dopest
Shit-halitosis, I spit the grossest
Now I gotta spit ashy then gross assist
Grocery shoppin' for my mama and daughter
I'm feelin' like I shouldn't have involved her
But now I'm movin' too quickly
Believe it or not, I'm Mr. Ripley, talented too
Comin' through like the afterwards school
Afterwards what they have at school
Nothin' leftover so I came back to the land
With my homie Lil B and half of my bands
We did it different than the Xans
No sleep, stayin' up real late with my mans
And out in Chicago droppin' shit off the top
They thought after Surf this shit would just stop
What's their problem? What's, what's their problem?
I'm comin' through, I had to dissolve 'em
Like acid to bases
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They want me to go back to Acid, the basic
Shit that's just tasteless
Now I'm flippin' it up like the Taste did
This year in Chicago when they started chargin' for tickets
Ayy shout out to the hood, they ain't gon' keep chargin' for tickets
If they don't let us in then we're chargin' the bridges
They tried to charge like Tar with the bridges
I went to school with my sisters
And speakin' of my sisters
I got Fatimah Noname Gypsy comin' through on the feelings
What's up!?
Ayy it's Fatimah, Mrs. Noname Gypsy
Not tipsy today but I'm Ripley today
Like he said before
I'm knockin' on your door
I'm comin' through with metaphor after metaphor
Like Meta 5 I'm still alive, like the beehive
On some Beyoncé shit, I'm hella equipped
For anything if you're ready, I'm heavy
Like Monique, that was a fat reference
You can put me on the guest list
You can tell me that I'm next, bitch
And I'd be like, 'Fasho I am!'
Sorry fam, I'm not a good freestyler
Uh I don't know what to say
I'm kinda crazy, kinda hazy, smokin' hazy
I'm off the top, I'm super lazy, hella Jay Z
But not Jay Z, I meant jaded, I'm faded
I be smokin' mad cigarettes
Uh, I'm in a jet, I got a jetpack
I'm super black like Obama
Or like Nina Simone
I'm comin' home again like Kanye should've
Uh, I don't know
Uh is this gonna be a whole freestyle mixtape?
That's crazy
Got my man Chance and my brother Lil B
And of course myself, Noname
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