| Hahahahahahah! |
| Don’t be scared of me
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| Come on over here and let Bubba infect you
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| Uhh, uhh
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| From the slums the East of Athens to the plains in North LaGrange
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| Bubba K can stumble drunk up on any porch I hang
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| Smokin all sources dank — from Jimmy Shwagger to Cambud
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| And I’m chasin Jim Beam, we keep stallin until my time’s up
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| Line up lames it’s time for your vaccination
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| Be glad you been infected, accept it, congratulations
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| I got platinum asperations but fear’s my motivation
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| I’mma wait in my time to shine but daily I grow impatient
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| Strictly for procreation, I need to plant my seeds
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| Since these bitches won’t cut I’ll rely on my hand to breathe
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| Fuckin this Cantonese, Betty named Tamberly
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| And her four older sisters 'til the blisters began to bleed
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| They probably’ll banish me for spittin in how I’m live it
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| But I’m still with my tongue out — flickin it like a lizard
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| Bubba like chicken gizzards; |
| fried in Southern pride
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| Man go on and drink dat beer but you know I’mma funnel mine
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| Now you could shoot it in yo' veins or shoot it up straight to yo' brain
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| You could smoke it out a bowl or get a blunt and roll it swole
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| Lo and behold boy you should’ve done injected
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| Cause if you ride with me I’mma get you so infected
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| Now you could hit that Betty raw or bust a load off in her jaw
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| You could place it where she doo doo, or even lick her poo doo
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| See I don’t care what you do, just don’t leave her neglected
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| Cause if you fall asleep I’mma get her so infected!
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| I just got off the phone with God, he said — I know this might seem odd
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| But Bubba I really need you, these preachers ain’t doin they job
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| So travel to Cape Cod, buy a thousand sheets of acid
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| And distribute it witcho' album, no doubt that’ll be a classic
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| Dude lockin up every fashion, whether it’s dope from weed to coke
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| From heroin to X, so next we needin a boat
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| Off the coast of eastern Georgia for two hundred keys of snort
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| For them heavy reefer chiefers, the five was trees to blow
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| They count on me fo' sho', if you fronted I’m goin the low
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| Man I’m from who did it though, but it’s funny, cause no one sold it
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| But now that Bubba hold it I’m certain they gon' disperse it
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| The rural parts the suburbs, I know that may seem absurd
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| But long ago when I heard they meet the urban people
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| They play by ears for years now my folks deserve some equal
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| Affection from this infection that gives our foundation
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| The same blood the same drugs equals a proud nation
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| Shit I probably know what you thankin when yo' legs get wobbly drankin
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| (Bubba K got it hard!) That’s when they found yo' body stankin
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| And you won’t be body linkin, what you thought I was from N’Sync?
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| I’m a country muh’fucker who ain’t changed my clothes in six weeks
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| Runnin with a thick fleet, of hungry Caucasoids
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| The type when you see us in the club actin up y’all avoid
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| Call your boys I got boys from Westpoint to Nelly B
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| Yeah I run with black folks too and they do carry heat
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| Plus I fuck with smelly freaks and I think they pussy very sweet
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| The fine Betty Betty with double D’s and sexy feet
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| On coke or ecstasy, down here we call 'em Beanie Babies
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| She was sensitive to the touch so when we fuck I mean it’s gravy
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| But I ain’t seen her lately — I been too busy chasin patients
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| We gon' shoot a movie next just so yo' ass can play the hatin
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| If the livest in yo' faction tellin me where the mic’s at
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| He won’t never rap again and he might not ever get his pride back
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| Exactly like that
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| Now we all infected.
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| Now yo' life’s the same as mine
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| And my life’s the same as yours
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| We all standin in the same, same shit.
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| I thank God and Khalifani
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| Anybody else got infected, or willin to be infected
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| Nonsense. |
| Bubba Sparxxx |