I'm a shark attack bitch you ever seen one in the summer? It's getting dark, marked the coordinates because here I come to Rip this track to shreds so tell them mutha-fuckin slumpas Now that I'm fed I'm gonna bring the thunda cut the strings and beat the drummer Shit, kick boy run it to the side first Bitch lives slurp why drive cursed Chick-to-check the meter, speeding in the wide hearse I'm a sin seeker, skull fuck the grim reaper And did-it-again but deeper Nah I ain't living right but I ain't living wrong neither See the way I hopped to the scotch, adjust the notch and bust the fucking speakers Oh it's too loud? You want me to turn it down, nah I didn't know that you could hear it from the bleachers
Go tell the teacher I don't give a fuck Know why?
This is that basket rap in case you lacked the matter of fact like a rat trapped Action packed like a blunt wrapped in plastic wax My flow is casted like a lass an duwhacks You off your horse of course So map your tracks so-we-do-not knock you off your course Then I chop with an axe Hatchet grasps and casket naps, listening for that gasp (Very) Please relax as I run laps around these tracks like the cherry on my bitches blunt wraps Fucking busting knee caps Mind your own beeswax My nut sack, you will relapse then drown in this tree sap I heard ya packed your bags and don't know when you'll be backTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
