| Ck one, tell ya mum this shits done
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| Got a brand new album for a fucked up son
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| Her daughter gettin fucked, like I give a shit tricker
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| Go eat that acid off’a them explicit warning stickers
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| Lickin tha cd, askin ya mum to buy it
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| While I’m gagging honey, in the hyatt with my dick to keep her quiet
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| «Room service…»
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| Fuck that! |
| Assume Nervous…
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| Break this bitch ass off a bruised purpose
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| In and out throw a fist in the route this bitch has waste management cause I
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| piss in her mouth
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| Match made of guiness for forty five minutes then I’m breakin my foot off her
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| ass for the finish
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| Look dingy and fendy but trendy millenium Ted Bundy lookin all friendly at
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| Wendy’s
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| Cause it’s time to eat and I’ll fuck you up I ain’t them rhymin' geeks
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| We want pussy, money and I’m ready for war
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| Already I’m tore still I’m gettin head from your whore
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| Bring the fun on don’t be the we put a gun on
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| Promoters that don’t gimmie our dough are gettin' swung on
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| I can’t help that your wife likes sex and the violence got knives to her head
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| while I paint eyelids
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| Then cut my ear off Smirnoff get the dead deer off then have that bitch get Lon
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| Ser off
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| Then we laugh about it at whatever clubs poppin' and blow this shit up with all
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| the whores and thugs lockin'
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| Make it a point to then break in the joint spend a clip on cult members outside
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| waitin' to join
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| I’m gettin' this money I don’t care how it look if I pick up both arms you’re
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| watchin' a coward cook
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| Riddled with lead d-cup nipple tip of the egg twelve four watchin cops itchin
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| their head
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| Sippin' grey goose with a trey deuce on this kid that runnin' this dough and
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| I’m like 'lay loose'
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| Don’t have your mom’s be like 'that's my boy' they’ll sign the papers to have
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| your corpse destroyed
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| You better got rocks to fling or Glocks to ping fuck around and got Cage doin'
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| obnoxious things now
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| It’s four AM where your kids at Larry Clarke’s crib with Copywrite next to
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| where the PTA live
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| Went to see Bully not for my two songs maybe up cameo with Bijou Phillips lady
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| up
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| This time around crazy I’m slicin shrunk monkeys used to pistol whip til Shady
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| made it look pussy
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| Tryin' to dissect words I write only found a napkin in the diner for the verse
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| I wrote last night
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| So don’t pick up bread crumbs like this old bitch sittin' shoddy in the NIS gun
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| You get the point like your bitch do I punch through the planet like when PCP
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| hits you
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| Watch me shake up these little primaddonas cuttin' off their backpacks like Mad
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| Cow Llama |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Pussy, Money And War , by - Cage. Song from the album Movies For The Blind, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп