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[talking] - look y'all gotta get in fuckin' line if you want to get served...
put the money in her... look I know y'all used to them bottles of that piss yellow...
you fuck this we closin' shit out...
If I'm as ill when I'm makin' my arms achin
holdin this baby over the roof when my incubus cd skips...
my wrist slips, look over the edge and score the bitch
on the land of them flips man start handin me dames or clips
fuck it - start squeezin' - shootin' mofuckers for no reason
am I buggin when I burnt the flames after rubbin - gasoline on my arms and chest and start huggin'
people in the precinct like cousins by the dozens when they question me I say where I wasn't
pretty bm puttin holes in your civic out the window shermed up if you say I don't live it
shits landin your grills holdin a divit large enough large enough forecast fema to pivot
or is it Chris Palko that's givin these bitches mouthfuls
then it's thank you notes on their face with scalpals
ck won yeah for ck run
your dough bitches I leave and tip y'all in ones
out of dough you might wake up with a mouth full of cum
and it's eat the rag I wipe with when I'm done
ck won yeah for ck run
your pockets dawg you keep the lint and the crumbs
if you climb out the trunk be happy to see sun
not get the fuck back to work and get me some more funds
Now don't start gettin jumpy I'm happy to pump 3
clips to your face then set out to leave the country
bitch smack enabled the quick snack scoop out the twat and get whats left of the bitch back
eat later rap to heat haters pimp like I feed em feet first to gators
skin grafts can't hide the brand and then rolled up here with your husband after my hands in it
then send em home with three of my mans in it cuz I'm no prince like protective palm laminates
think shits silly now watch the nine milly - put this really dull bitch brains all in the belly
that's fifty k more fifty more to gun or play back to the lab with a big tittied run away
guess who aint gonna pay to paint islands gettin head from a wilin bitch and still drivin
ck won yeah for ck run
your dough bitches I leave and tip y'all in ones
out of dough you might wake up with a mouth full of cum
and it's eat the rag I wipe with when I'm done
ck won yeah for ck run
your pockets dawg you keep the lint and the crumbs
if you climb out the trunk be happy to see sun
not get the fuck back to work and get me some more funds
I left a trail of dead nurses kept the ID from their purses
started my own 1 900 number service...
gettin mad at earth is a waste of time
still collectin note when I'm too wasted to rhyme
you in the basement online with the webcam, go get your head slammed limbs broke bedpan
all for this bitch played you for chris, IV in your wrist and fist pumpin you Cage piss
with the incidentals of cage kennylz cut through the panties with the rocks and the dentals
speakin of which no gifts for the snatch unless you want diamond earings with earlobes attached
shoot up an M5 and whoever in it cuz I ain't got one and I ain't waitin a minute
if the ransom ain't met then I ain't cakey to floss cheeze grater to face and start scrapin it off...
ck won yeah for ck run
your dough bitches I leave and tip y'all in ones
out of dough you might wake up with a mouth full of cum
and it's eat the rag I wipe with when I'm done
ck won yeah for ck run
your pockets dawg you keep the lint and the crumbs
if you climb out the trunk be happy to see sun
not get the fuck back to work and get me some more funds
[sample from a clockwork orange]
"Down in the snook of the duke of new york - now they knew who was master and leader"
Writer(s): Milo Berger, Christian Palko
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