itchy foot

"Itchy Foot Anthem" Yo, Itchy Foot, why you creepin’ on the low? Tryna set a brother up, but your plan too slow, I had the Jeep deep, bass hittin’ like a boulder, You sittin’ on a couch with a jar on the shoulder. 3.5 on a trash can, boy, that’s weak, You railroadin’ me, but your train got a squeak, Up north with Big Girl AJ, that’s your flex? But you still got crumbs on your shirt from your ex. You stealin’ change out the jar like a couch-bandit, Your feet so itchy, Doc said, “We can’t stand it.” Legs look like they ran a thousand miles in socks, Body built like a Lego with the square-top blocks. Thanks for the treat you brought, I’ll admit that’s cute, But your girl’s spot is snake-filled, venom in the fruit, You tried to take me out, but my bounce game thick, Like I’m slam-dunkin’ life while you dribble out quick. You got a towel behind you — what’s that for? To wipe the crumbs from the snacks you store? You got a dilapidated frame, all wobble no gain, While I’m cruisin’ in my lane, you still complain. Itchy Foot, Itchy Leg, man, you still on the couch, With a Wi-Fi password you stole from your spouse, Your hustle like your sneakers — broke at the heel, Tryin’ to serve me beef but you can’t cook the meal. Yeah, I’m laughin’ at your plot, it’s a Saturday flick, Where the villain trip over his own cheap trick, Your Jeep story weak, your spaghetti was cold, Your whole vibe dusty like a 20-year-old mold. So keep runnin’ round town with your agent cheese plate, While I’m stackin’ up wins at a champion rate, You itchy from the toes to the top of your dome, Better call it quits, player, and just head home.