not-so-epic rap battles taken apart and fixed with my awesomeness
lots of talk about cocks in context of a gun
and bitches and hoes that nobody has ever found;
they work the corner, like 7-11
or little girls treading on sexual tension
who are captive in a trunk and smothered in spunk;
nobody ever told 'em they were born with the worst luck.
Just another stupid drunk
Just another spat o' lust
Just another broken trust
that woke up with the slow, crushing impact of a garbage truck.
nobody gave a fuck;
a shhh-shhh-shhh accompanied by other stuff
to snuff the witness;
complaints that meet a barrel o'fun
and all that's left are the remnants of a loved one.
------------------------------------------
I spit so hard and deep, you would swear that i'm fuckin' ya
------------------------------------------
KUNG-POW!
pull the trigger back.
if the bullets were fake
they'd shown ghost from cardiac arrest.
Leave 'em stunning with a cherry macaroon chest
a sticky serenade slickin' up the patio steps.
A bloody fucking mess, I must confess,
iron from the cavity all over my address.
better skip town
better move around
it was nice knowing you
but I don't wanna be found
so goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
coulda kept it in my pocket but I simply had to give it a try
and I don't even know why
i had to pry my finger inbetween the holster and crescent eye.
and bitches and hoes that nobody has ever found;
they work the corner, like 7-11
or little girls treading on sexual tension
who are captive in a trunk and smothered in spunk;
nobody ever told 'em they were born with the worst luck.
Just another stupid drunk
Just another spat o' lust
Just another broken trust
that woke up with the slow, crushing impact of a garbage truck.
nobody gave a fuck;
a shhh-shhh-shhh accompanied by other stuff
to snuff the witness;
complaints that meet a barrel o'fun
and all that's left are the remnants of a loved one.
------------------------------------------
I spit so hard and deep, you would swear that i'm fuckin' ya
------------------------------------------
KUNG-POW!
pull the trigger back.
if the bullets were fake
they'd shown ghost from cardiac arrest.
Leave 'em stunning with a cherry macaroon chest
a sticky serenade slickin' up the patio steps.
A bloody fucking mess, I must confess,
iron from the cavity all over my address.
better skip town
better move around
it was nice knowing you
but I don't wanna be found
so goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
coulda kept it in my pocket but I simply had to give it a try
and I don't even know why
i had to pry my finger inbetween the holster and crescent eye.