| You motherfuckers ain’t on my shelf
|
| I should jump back and try to french kiss myself
|
| The boy fell in the well and lived to tell
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| Put my voice in the mix, make the winter melt
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| I’m the best thing since a fresh loaf of sliced bread
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| Sitting on the bed between a pair of nice legs
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| I’m sex, white flag, ice bag, wipe rag
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| I’m twice the mess but a fraction of the price tag
|
| Back stage in a rat cage
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| But when I bend these bars, everybody get to gas face
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| They said it was dead, in that case
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| I’ma get revenge, I’ma make rap pay
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| Now run and tell the sun I’m turning up the light
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| I might arrive on the plane, train, bus or bike
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| You can fuss and fight, but it’s just despite
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| Cause it functions right when I cup this mic
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| No feedback, ease back, let the beat crack
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| But Uncle Sam said he wanna see tax
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| Make the beeswax, no relax
|
| Run around the map and leave tracks
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| You can call me Sean like nothing’s wrong
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| I’m the early dawn, I’m the dirty bum
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| My thoughts get drawn on a JumboTron
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| If your jaw don’t drop you can hum along, come on!
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| Shotgun, the raw one
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| We the hot sauce on y’alls tongue
|
| We don’t stop till it’s all done
|
| So turn it up till the cops come
|
| Shotgun, the raw one
|
| We the hot sauce on y’alls tongue
|
| We don’t stop till it’s all done
|
| So turn it up till the cops come
|
| You get lost in how awesome I is
|
| You watching like you bought stock in my biz
|
| You caught that sickness sitting on shit
|
| You’d be better off frying up some littler fish
|
| I’m a big catch, whoo! |
| Sweet Jesus
|
| Walk on the trash, keep clean as a fetus
|
| Rip the beef into child size pieces
|
| You talk cheap, now you need to get your teeth fixed
|
| I don’t recognize you or your toy crew
|
| Go ahead, step aside now, let my noise through
|
| Grew and spread like Kudzu
|
| Didn’t need a gun to put a Slug in your guts
|
| Move over chauffeur, I roll the coaster
|
| I got older and badder and bolder
|
| Who’s the host with the monster?
|
| Birds fly to Minnesota just to land on my shoulders
|
| No pressure, it don’t get desperate
|
| No special effects, just sweat and spit
|
| So fresh, still make it seem effortless
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| Breath smell like breast milk and peppermint
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| Got put on a permanent good foot
|
| Huh, got more flavor than a cookbook
|
| So take a look at what you couldn’t have took
|
| If I forgot anything, we’ll just put it on the hook, c’mon
|
| Shotgun, the raw one
|
| We the hot sauce on y’alls tongue
|
| We don’t stop till it’s all done
|
| So turn it up till the cops come
|
| Shotgun, the raw one
|
| We the hot sauce on y’alls tongue
|
| We don’t stop till it’s all done
|
| So turn it up till the cops come
|
| You ain’t gon' be shit
|
| I’m the best kept secret
|
| Anyone can see it
|
| If I say it loud enough, maybe you’ll believe it
|
| Shotgun, the raw one
|
| We the hot sauce on y’alls tongue
|
| We don’t stop till it’s all done
|
| So turn it up till the cops come |