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 #

dna tru lyricist - lookin' at you lyrics

[verse:]

what you want me to do? sit around here and look at you?
try to forget all the sh-t that you put me through?
looking into beautiful faces of my daughters
looking at you, and all i want to do is slaughter
for all the times you said that i wasn’t a father
for all the times i tried to be nice but you just got bothered
shrugged your shoulders and gave me a bitter beer, “look, now i’m hotter”
wanna d-ckslap you upside your medulla oblongata
got this dude talking bout “i wanna get in the booth with you”
who he think he is? superdude with all this whoop-de-whoop?
using you as a side-dish, slipping you this sly sh-t
here’s my tip, say the word, b-tch, i make em die quick
i’m no motherf-cker to try to come dine with
i think you know that, don’t try, what you hide, b-tch?
you love r&b but i jam homicide sh-t
and h-ll yeah, i still love you, i ain’t gonna deny it
lying in bed beside you, trying-
not to touch you but my hand keeps rising
sliding closer to you, i’m dying
flobbing hard on the inside, vibrate
[?], watching you put on lotion
closing in on the motion
when your -ss swings by me, i feel like groping
throw you on the bed, then i bust it wide open
uh, but see, it just ain’t that simple
cause this b-tch only loves ghetto f-cking people
them motherf-ckers who only listen to the ‘oh’
when i’m done with this, she’ll be listening to the ‘agh’
i mean, come on laura, your name rhymes with horror
and you can’t ignore it when my [????]
but of course the fact that i’m not black-
might be the reason that she hasn’t gotten back with me, yeah
that’s why i’m challenging all you motherf-ckers
to a frontyard, bl–dy, brutal fight to the death
no rules, you can use bats and knives to the chest
i’m f-cking p-ssed off, i really feel like slicing the neck-
of a person jamming that music: the ghetto trap music
with no lyrical content, your sh-t’s wack and useless
and girls who listen to that r&b puke sh-t
makes me want to puke, it’s- motherf-ck new sh-t
falsified [?] relations, you’re clueless
get up out that world, b-tch
it ain’t real, it’s bullsh-t
everything is bullsh-t, sh-t is f-cking bullsh-t
i ain’t doing this sh-t anymore, i need a new b-tch
one who has a p-ssy and who knows how to use it
not one who lays against the wall, leaving me with blue b-lls
so i’m using my phone to jack off to p-rn in the bathroom
and i have to look up a girl that looks like you, b-tch
should i use lotion or choose spit
i gotta get my d-ck wet with no help from you, b-tch
but these motherf-ckers who can’t offer you sh-t gets offered the clique
get’s offered the lits, get’s offered the t-ts
the harder the d-ck, the darker the t-t
your panties drop and you’re quick
there ain’t no stopping this sh-t, already popping the fifth-
baby out of your slit, baby, you should just get
some birth control for your spit, out number 6, number 7
when junior’s 8 or 11, he’ll have more family members than he can count on his hands, and-
feet, pen, pad, and paper, maybe even calculator
why don’t you do us a favour?
and get your tube tied, b-tch, and stay there
cause i don’t favour a b-tch like you no more
behind this motherf-cking microphone settling the score
for this motherf-cking b-tch who ain’t nothing but a wh0r-

- dna tru lyricist lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS