Numbers (freestyle) Lyrics - Asher Roth

Y'all fuckers bore me 

Don't wanna talk about mechanical royalties 

I wanna talk about orgies and forgery 

World Wars and some things more important 

Than some record stores pretending there's only four dwarfs 

I'm a word's worth, four score, some odd years ago 

I appeared like a miracle, maybe you didn't hear me dog 

Hear me g, hit you with some shit you never heard before 

Heard before, Ash Roth, rap's own herbivore 

Lord of sore Sportsmanship, throw shit when I don't win 

When things get grim, I'm Jim...Harbaugh, times are hard brah 

I'm tired of playing hard ball, bartered with a strong arm 

Tall broads, large bra, hard on, flaw, I ball like James Hardon 

Little off, chance he was gay, then he went straight 

Only pause for long when I stand at buffets 

Blonder than Dolly Parton that's in a Pamela phase 

Stamina swate, handsome, my advantage is fate 

Haters gon' hate but all they say is "damn it, he's great" 

(Damn it, he's great) Famished, need a sandwich to taste 

I like my ham with cheese and mayonnaise 

Mind your manners on dates (Standard procedure sheriff) 

Yeah, my plan is to wait, sip of Brandy while you standing 

Come and stand in my place, sham and embrace 

Let's keeping it go merrily, listening, I'm terribly 

Little George chopping down the cherry tree, true 

There's a moment in youth when growing ensues 

Not only are you growing but you show and improve 

Low and behoove, I'm sowing that my flowing in proof 

Yeah, merlowing ain't the only thing that slowly improves 

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