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circumcision proposition - toast to the gods lyrics

[verse 1: tory kipple]

(“circ-mcision proposition, granularity, ok”)

” my clique is tighter than fisting a virgin
your nervous as delusional thomas sh-ttin’ in mervyns
while you were on your knees playing my d-ck like a piccolo flute
i was reclined back smoking ganja, sippin’ a brew
the sickening view of an intricate dude with illicit nudes of hillary cruz seducing a jew
explicit as a b-tch in a coupe with the gear stick in her cooch shifting the gears as she twerking her -ss smoking the purps
i like bis-xual tranny hoes with a big c-ck
their d-ck is the stick to my fun dip, f-ck a ring pop
now suck my c-ck to the beat of the kids bop bumpin’ harder than the lines of the rock that i just chopped
my body’s cut like whippings given on slave boats
you look like leonardo dicaprio when the sank boat
i mean the boat sank, you know my flow stanks, hatin’ on it is critical for me to become great
i get better over time, red wine with old age
i go get her cuz she fine, dime piece with bold taste
she get wetter as she prime, fresh cut ribeye steak
she write letters on thin lines, white cream for her cake
athletes foot on my cushion before the track meet
gold bond powder to heal up all of my cracks b
backstreet boys in the p-ssenger and the back seats
jerkin off chickens and f-cking women with no feet (ahhhhh)”

(“circ-mcision proposition, granularity, ok”)

[verse 2: tory kipple]

“this beat is off the hook, yeah thats granularity for ya
the boredom exits the room when you enter the state of joey
its noisy and i’m confused these dope chords are blowing the drums out of my dome, it’s overflowing
the cision is circ-m, the fission is nuclear
and hercules is about to f-ck a b-tch in the -ss with a strap-on attached
and i dont give a f-ck about actual facts
so don’t quote me i’ve been huffing paint and smoking crack in the back of a cabin
with anakin sky and johnathan madden
i’m hoping i die as soon as davy releases the kraken
i’m acting a fool on acid, walking the surface of saturn’s moons and jackin’ off like i’m in amateur brazzers auditions
my vision is sicker than a syphilis d-ck in a blender
i’m hot as a kamikaze after his plane hit the tower
now give me a shower i need to cool myself off like i’m howard stern watching playboy bunnies strip off their clothes in a sauna
i’m lava and magma with the karma to blast ya
if you haven’t heard the bird is the word and i’m here with your casket
the magic is street and your death wasn’t tragic
your angel is chis and your priest is a catholic
my nine is a tech, but the forty is mickeys
got these hickeys all on my neck like i’ve been pimpin’ these b-tches for centuries
i walk with a limp while i’m grippin’ my cane
got my suit and my top hat on like dolemite ‘rudy ray moore’
to come from us kids yeah we majored in pain
i make decisions based on visions that i have in my brain
i’m so sane, not in, and i’m out at the drive through
my b-tch got them french thighs she like it animal style
i give it to her how stifler gave it to grandma levenstein
explicit as the imagery can possibly ever be
herpe d-cks and herpe cl-ts may hershey’s kiss
your purty lips and perky t-ts in thirty six
minutes replenish the hennessy before we speak
let us have a toast to the gods baby we’re f-ckin’ sh-t up”

- circumcision proposition lyrics

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