Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Pawfluffer Night, artist - Run the Jewels.
Date of issue: 25.09.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Pawfluffer Night |
Bunches and bunches, punches is thrown until you’re frontless |
Oodles and oodles, bang bullets at suckas' noodles |
Last album voodoo, proved that we was fuckin' brutal |
I’m talking crazy, half past the clock is cuckoo |
You rappers doodoo, baby shit, just basic boo boo |
I’m Shaka Zulu, Mansa Musa, my money buku |
My beats is bangin', fuck what you rappin', who produced you? |
I slapped the snot, take what ya got and Run The Jewels you |
You itsy bitsy furry fright and frickin' sickly |
A little prickly, dick on display for Winter swimming |
Look at these kitties, Mike, I’mma rat-a-tat 'em for living |
I deal in dirty work, do the deed and then dash, ditch 'em |
I’d lend a hand but they stuck in a fist and gun position |
We run our brand where destruction’s the number one commitment |
It’s all a joke between mom contractions and coffin fittings |
So we disappear in the smoke like we’re fuckin' magicians |
No hocus pocus, you simple suckers been served a notice |
Top of the morning, my fist to your face is fucking Folgers |
(We might be giants, standing on little dandy shoulders) |
You punks is pussy proverbial pansy panty holders |
I Jake the Snake ‘em, DDT ‘em in mausoleums |
Macabre massacres killing cunts in my colosseum |
(They all actors, giving top in back of a BM |
I’d fall back if the casting calls are ending in semen) |
I’m the foulest, no need for any evaluations |
I’m a phallus for Johnson and Jimmy spraying faces |
Any cow that is sacred will get deface’d |
Like any tyrant murderer gets replaced, face it |
The fellows at the top are likely rapists |
But you like «Mellow out man, just relax, it’s really not that complicated» |
Well pardon me, I guess I’m just as sane as you explain’ed |
Or maybe sanctifying the sadistic is derange’d |
This Run The Jewels is, murder, mayhem, melodic music |
Psychotics use it then lose it, junkies simply abuse it |
That’s word to Phillip Seymour Hoffman, I’m pushin coffin |
I probably smell like a pound when they put me in a coffin |
The gates of hell are pugnaciously pacin', waitin' |
I give a fuck if I’m late, tell Satan be patient |
But I ain’t here for durations, I’m just taking vacations |
And tell 'em fuck 'em, I never loved 'em and salutations |