Correction Paroles Cuss Words (Mike E. Clark’s Unplugged Thuggery) par Ouija Macc

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Paroles

b*t*h!
f**k sh*t ass whore pu**y faggot sl*t d**k c*ck balls b*st*rd whore dyke clit sh*t balls ass dyke b*t*h hole c*ck sl*t faggot dyke b*t*h whore ho skank ho
Tell me

If ever I cussed as much when they bust
With the buzz in a fuss and be such
Could music even be nuts? Would they reap us?
Or style wanna keep us?
Are we dreamingers? Never sleepers?
You'd probably never beep us
Because wouldn't be cuss
Jesus thesis wouldn't reach us
Not not speakers taller than a bleachers (b*t*h!)
To each his own
His only bone is to goin' in knowing they critique us
What was only on them sneakers
Now they wanna slap on speakers
Sneak ass, Rikishi ass, that flash back, trash that, I'm past that
For the freaky naked speakers beatin' blast that
You get your ass slapped
We stick our d**ks in a mix of chicks all fixed to start some sh*t up
Soon as we parked, them markets sparkle, b*t*hes' boxes lit up
So get up, f**k sh*t up, some haters' throats get slit up
They bleeding, belch, and spit up
Soon as it croaks, we tip up
Ching ching ching, shim shimmering shing
Angels bring bling for kings
The best gift they truly ever gave
Jetpack flight through the Everglades
Making f**k down with seven babes
Fresh reunion with Mr. Spade
Chance for retarded kids to get laid
Danny "K" at Coachella, paid (b*t*h!)

Cuss words, let 'em roll (f**k c*ck!)
Mother f**k sh*t God damn as*h**e (b*t*h fag!)
Cuss Words let 'em rip (sl*tty d**k!)
Mother f**k you, damn sh*t head b*t*h (b*t*h!)

f**k boys doubt us, they girls ('Bout us)
They say f**k us, but they (Bump us)
Haters knock us 'cause they (Jock us)
b*t*hes hatin' see us (Debating, yeah)
Hey Jack, play something wack
So damn wack, in fact, you wanna smack it back
And like the high on crack, everybody out here
Wanna react and and act like, in fact, it's phat
"I f**ks with that," but they know it's wack
Yet they all wanna act like wack is back
I don't get it. Next time we kickin' phat
f**k them! I'm kicking ass like a hacky sack!
Yeah, girl
I just wanna tell you
From the depths of where my heart used to be
You ain't sh*t (b*t*h!)
f**k yo b*t*h, suck my d**k
Plummeting into a dungeon of nothingness
I'm 'bout to suffocate, fearless like Fred Fury
Born a legitimate, born to eliminate
Spirits around me allow me to levitate
Drugs in me [?] that's how I meditate
I ain't show up to my funeral, made 'em wait
I got the stain on the game that I gotta make
(b*t*h!) I know they feeling it
Ouija just killing it
Look what we did with it
Put the sauce on the wicked sh*t (b*t*h!)
Y'all should be f**ked, sh*t, b*t*h, c**t, happy we did this sh*t
Handzum with a hatchet talk to my elastics
Psycho with schematic automatic static
Tell me
Where do I start, because swearing's an art
Hatchetman on my heart means I'm wearing the part
We don't care about critics, right there on the charts
It's the spot that we bear, it's to claim [?] smart
Everywhere that you go, don't be starin' your mart
They say juggalos hard, and you know that they are
And they know every Card from the second it start
They dissect every secret, they checkin' the arc
You can see my mug in the CDs that you might purchase or pluck right there coat
Or within your [?] was there from the start
Blarin' our music and wearin' our art
Tearin' through duckets and hearin' the heart
We there for a part
Caring the hardest is sharing them Cards
pu**y like I'm on a hike
I'm lost in the pu**y looking for the light
I beat up the pu**y like a prison fight
I don't like fat pu**y, but I do tonight
I'm f**king your butt if the pu**y ain't tight
I burn through pu**y like coke in a pipe
f**kin' your girl's pu**y's like rockin' the mic
sh*t's pu**y, simple as riding a bike
I master cuss words that you ain't even heard of yet (Woo! I'm the nature boy!)
I'm psycho psychotic, I know how a murder get (b*t*h!)
I slaughtered a lot of hoes, but never heard of 'lettes (Woo! I'm the nature boy!)
I'm funky and dirty and sick and sleep [?]

Cuss words, let 'em roll (f**k c*ck!)
Mother f**k sh*t God damn as*h**e (b*t*h fag!)
Cuss Words let 'em rip (sl*tty d**k!)
Mother f**k you, damn sh*t head b*t*h (b*t*h!)
Cuss words, let 'em roll (f**k c*ck!)
Mother f**k sh*t God damn as*h**e (b*t*h fag!)
Cuss Words let 'em rip (sl*tty d**k!)
Mother f**k you, damn sh*t head b*t*h (b*t*h!)

Fearless Fred Fury don't f**king forgive
Your feelings ain't foolish, you're lucky to live
You need a machine for the heartbeat to give
You'd sh*t yourself cryin' and droolin' a bib
Fred is no friend of foes
I'm stompin' in your nose
Set fire to your clothes
How come I f**k all your hoes?
Lets oot a couple o's
Knock off some liquor stores
Drink gasoline and smoke
SQUEEZE your neck 'til it's broke
SQUEEZE your neck 'til you croak
Hump her neden until it smoke
'Til her daddy have a stroke
(b*t*h!)
Own a slab in Roanoke
Plus my pad in Okemos
Got one in Cuba and Aruba and Compton (West Side Loc)
Never let them tell you nope
Know your roll, don't ever hope
Gotta love yourself
If you won't let you love yourself, then just elope
Your career's a stale-ass joke
Cosby won't cuss, but loved to grope
p*ss my pants, let my nuts soak
Out my zipper, my d**k poke (Yup!)
In London, I'm known as bloke
Clean my b*t*h booty with soap
Violent J, my f**king loc
Got me a lap dance with the pope (b*t*h!)

Cuss words, let 'em roll (f**k c*ck!)
Mother f**k sh*t God damn as*h**e (b*t*h fag!)
Cuss Words let 'em rip (sl*tty d**k!)
Mother f**k you, damn sh*t head b*t*h (b*t*h!)
(Come on!) Cuss words, let 'em roll (f**k c*ck)
Mother f**k sh*t God damn as*h**e (b*t*h fag!)
Cuss Words let 'em rip
Mother f**k you- (Ah!) uoy kcuf rehtom
Cuss words, let 'em roll (f**k c*ck!)
Mother f**k sh*t God damn as*h**e (b*t*h fag!)
Cuss Words let 'em rip (sl*tty d**k!)
Mother f**k you, damn sh*t head b*t*h (Ah!)
Cuss words, let 'em roll (f**k c*ck!)
Mother f**k sh*t God damn as*h**e (b*t*h fag!)
Cuss Words let 'em rip (sl*tty d**k!)
Mother f**k you, damn sh*t head b*t*h (Ah!)

The Hatchet, mother f**ker, Psychopathic
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
b*t*h!

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