a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

camboi smif - locker room talk / cheeto dust lyrics

locker room talk

[verse 1]
i thank god erry day for
makin carrie fisher p-ss away
cuz leia was lamer than
george michael at his wake, ya
know aretha franklin waitin with
her whole urethra shaven, bill
cosby poppin’ out the coffin
opposite the pill she drankin’
ya lookin’ heinous, like
you could use a rapin’ was
the catchphrase created, and
a bunch of other dank sh-t
f-ck the f-ckin image, b-tch
i’m into bein infamous, n
i don’t give a flyin’ sh-t, foh
any of these women
i done been in it, went
and lived in it, ex-purrrimented
fermented j-sm
in them dern lips
stirred kid liquid, in
the birthing tent presented
mixed it up’n let it sit, until my
girthy extension limpened
i’m into sick sh-t
y’all can’t infer my intentions
all da spit i invent, is
meant to deter b-tches
cuz the worst b-tches, is
the flirts with da curves’n if
she got a pretty face, then
i get the urge to burst in it
church b-tches, get up
on my f-ckin nerves, which is
why dat sh-t is so deserved, when
da sperm hit ‘em in da perm
in a perfect earf, my d-ck
would be immersed in ‘em
with-in the first minute
in-which we purp-hittin’
yeah i burn bridges with
these raps and a gas can
pry open v-g-n-s like
i’m tryna k!ll pacman
murder all da time
murder all the f-ckin tracks, man
fryin’ all da wires on dat
on dat got d-mn tascam
you a f-ckin f-g, man
you don’t get no -ss, man
you don’t rip da p-ssy like
you tryna murder pacman
you a trash man, and
belong in a trash can
with carrie fisher’s corpse’a
course that sh-t’s a trap man!
i used to slay c-nt
way back in the day son
f-cked yo momma’s b-tt, in
the back of the datsun
she lemme hit it
cuz i packed one
put a shrek green hog, on
a dragon berry black bun, puttin’
dat nut, to her face
like she takin a call
broke ya momma’s jaw
like dat sh-t was da law
ya betta hide da chickens
if i been sippin da guinness
since i don’t grab em by da
p-ssy anymo’
i f-ck ‘em in it

[verse 2]
ya don’t gotta be a c-ck
it’s just locker room talk, i’m
just tryna get involved with a
lil nuclear holocaust – so
keep doin’ your molotovs’n
shootin’ all’a ya shots off
n i’ll use this hot sauce to
start polishin’ my kn-b off
to dis rare picture’a carrie
fisher, bare with her bra off, i
snapped it after death before da
body was hauled off – i put a
dog filter on her face
and i captioned it “all dogs”
“go to h-ll” sent it off to the
cops, and they all saw
dis dat cardiac
arrested development
a safe sp-ce with me is like
a room with a raped elephant
i put my junk in its trunk
son, i stay malevolent, and
i stay away from babies
but i don’t stay celibate
i still sell a bit, and
i may be a felon, b-tch
i roll da resin in da melon
zig-zag eleven inches
if i gotta gut blunts, i
cut a f-ckin woman
from her stomach to her c-nt
and i dump it on f-ckin the rug
in front of the gutted blunts
chuck in a couple chunks, of
dem human guts, roll it up n
seal it wit dat jewish blood
of carrie fisher, cuz
she was the dumb c-nt i dug
up and cut open with a
nabooan tusk, n
moved the oozin’ guts from
the shrew to the newish blunt
threw in all da stupid ones
including the tumor lumps
n dat squirrel brain, found
lodged n her protrudin’ b-tt
then i rolled dat duder up
in to a f-ckin droopin’ slug

[outro]
and then i got high as f-ck
off those f-ckin’ guts
of carrie
carrie fisher
i was with her mother
deborah fisher
when i got
high as a godd-mn
motherf-cker
when i f-ckin’ smoked those
guts of carrie fisher
oh lord
oh lord, please
bring her back to me
and then she f-ckin’ died
of that heartbreak syndrome

cheeto dust

[verse 1: camboi]
i got, cheeto dust, on
da tip of my d-ck – i got
ya b-tches cl-t drippin’
wit a fl!ck’a da wrist – no sh-t
made da p-ssy drip, drops on
da flo – by my toe tips, then she
jerked me off wit da trader joes
chili sauce, yo – you know dis
my whole clique, c-m strapped
wit da costco membership cards
we spit real intricate n interestin’ bars
n they real hard
y’all are r-t-rds, y’all don’t
even know where we parked, y’all
couldn’t find ya own needle
d-ck in the dark
don’t put ya dirty -ss shoes on my
bed, unless you wanna get dead
like prince, cut yo pr-ck off
n call you princess
from now on
that’ll be yo new name, and
there ain’t a d-mn thang, you can do
or say to make me change my brain
except maybe, you could gimme brain
what do you say, yo
you don’t say sh-t, unless
i give yo lips some sh-t to spray

[hook]
cheeto dust
i got, i got cheeto dust
cheeto dust
i got, i got cheeto dust
cheeto dust
i got, i got cheeto dust
cheeto dust
i got, i got cheeto dust

[verse 2: mic pence]
uh, uh, uh
sup b-tch
it is f-ckin’ mic pence
and i’m slicin’ up a well-done
muh f-ckin’ prime rib
so hung
like a g-y from a noose
gettin’ head from trump
while i’m sippin’ on dat grey goose
f-ck a woman
i don’t wanna tocuh ’em
i just wanna jerk to donald
trump while he hump ’em

- camboi smif lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS