Rickin Morty

[Intro]
Portal gun drip, eyes gone, I’m orbit
Wrong timeline, call me Rickin Morty (yeah)
[Verse 1]
Green in my lungs, that Plumbus pack
Eyes on swirl like a Schwifty track
Multiverse room, I’m on ten of me
All of us lit, that’s redundancy
Blew my mind like a Szechuan sauce drop
Brain in a jar on the laptop
Talking to myself on the floor, who the hell that
Wubba lubba dub dub, heart off track
[Chorus]
I’m Rickin Morty, I’m fucked up
High as fuck, can’t stand up
Spaced out, think my shit laced up
Spaced out, think my shit laced up
I’m Rickin Morty, I’m fucked up (so gone)
High as fuck, can’t stand up
Spaced out, think my shit laced up
Spaced out, think my shit laced up (yeah)
[Verse 2]
Blue crystal drip in the Gatorade
Talking to a Meeseeks, he obey
Ash in the tray look like birdperson wings
Jerry in my phone, keep callin, let it ring
Ship talk back when I start to cough
Told her “take me home,” she cut the power off
Summer in the kitchen with the edibles
Took two more, now the couch look edible (damn)
[Chorus]
I’m Rickin Morty, I’m fucked up
High as fuck, can’t stand up
Spaced out, think my shit laced up
Spaced out, think my shit laced up
I’m Rickin Morty, I’m fucked up (oh yeah)
High as fuck, can’t stand up
Spaced out, think my shit laced up
Spaced out, think my shit laced up

rap, Upbeat trap-rap banger with heavy, distorted bass and crisp hi-hats; playful yet grimy bounce. Verses packed with rapid-fire punchlines, pockets of double-time flow, and ad-lib callouts. Hook built for chanting, layered hype vocals on key phrases, subtle sci-fi synth bleeps and warped pads nodding to interdimensional chaos. Male vocals, energetic and cocky, riding the beat with swagger and slight drunken sway.