Correction Lyrics Say It Twice by Slaine

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Lyrics

Hey yo, I'm sitting in a kitchen and I'm pitching my plans
For anybody listening, what? You ain't listening, man?
f**k all the jewellery on their wrist or their hand
'Cause I ain't down for the glitz, b*t*h, I'm p*ssed at the glam
But I can capture a moment like a flick of the cam
High Planes Drifter with my d**k in my hand
Walking six feet of sand, I'm talking whiskey and grams
I smile for your girl, that's why the world is missing me, man
And imagine up in Heaven, Devil's wishing me dead
Calling me evil, but this ain't no publicity scam
All of the people saying that they wish that he'd scram
And stop acting like a rebel with a fist in each hand
f**k it raw dog, giving me thе itchiest pants
Go ahead and tell thе label I'm no risky advance
Mr. Six-Figure when I mix liquor and I disfigure
Anybody talking sh*t saying "Who is this wigga?"
I mix drinks stiffer than Christopher Reeves
And get deep throat, make a b*t*h hiccup
Everybody put your hands up, this is a stick-up
Thick in the club, who is sicker than us?

They call me Mr. Mr. Chop Chop, jump shooter, pop pop
Dump Rugers in a f**king river, f**k a cop cop
Chitty chitty bang bang, I know how to play it right
sh*tty sh*tty Slaine Slaine, I ain't gotta say it twice
Mr. Mr. Chop Chop, jump shooter, pop pop
Dump Rugers in a f**king river, f**k a cop cop
Chitty chitty bang bang, I know how to play it right
sh*tty sh*tty Slaine Slaine, I ain't gotta say it twice

Order in the court
I don't know why I f**king let you motherf**kers get to me, man
Order in the court
I don't f**king like any one of you motherf**kers, man
Will the defendant please sit down
You motherf**kers are crawling my eardrums
Will the defendant please sit down
I hate every one of you, every one of you

So tell me how in the world I could be sh*t on now
There's no stopping me, you could put the kid on trial
They heard me coming with the flavour, sick of bit-on styles
So get on the bus, but b*t*h, you'd better sit on down
I'm pitching fire at you, put your mitt on, pal
I'm lonelier than Saddam's cell
Got a perch up in Heaven that I sit on well
Rapper, f**k a movie, hock a loogie, spit on Hell
Yeah, that's my steez homie, this ain't even nothing to me
I don't even smoke crack, I'm just into puffing oolies
I ain't gonna pull back with the DMS squad
We can spare a couple but we leave the f**king rest scarred
God bless God, I guess you never ever know
If your sh*t is hitting hard like you Sadaharu Oh
I could scare a scarecrow when I smoke a bag of 'dro
Coming out the underground and I'm dragging you below
It's a catastrophe, yo, his agony is broke
Never lagging like the other ones who's dragging feet in snow
And Germz hit me up with the banger beat I know
It's like I'm on a corner pitching blow in six feet of snow
I got my pitching game right, so get my name right
This is a bad move, man, this is Slaine's night
I maim mics, it's like they think I ain't right
Slaine 9/11 plane, man, you on the same flight

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