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flushing scotch - seasons of hell lyrics

[intro]
the motherf-ckin’ plague bringer
the motherf-ckin’ plague bringer

[verse 1]
i started sellin’ clothes and c0ke around that hot topic
with pockets full of sidewalk chalk, profits off these narcotics
givin’ this d-ck to gothic chicks until i’m either exhausted
or i’m about to f-ckin’ . . . oh my god, it’s blow time
i’m c-mmin’ faster than the supersonics down to okc
droppin’ loads in hoes faster than dogs dropped homie g
b-tches blowin’ me to jodeci
i’m like, “let’s bounce,” that b-tch is like, “totally”
i fertilize her ovaries
in nine months, kid’s my f-ckin’ groceries

well pardon me
if you’re down for the cause, you best apostrophe (pause)
cause you got me travellin’ back to the fat of the land
where i smack your b-tch up just like prodigy (f-ck you hoe)

fallin’ in love then apart
tearin’ the heart out of a b-tch, kano
off with the gloves, then i punch the b-tch out of the car
tyson, k.o
trappin’ her, fasten her onto the scaffoldin’
havin’ her be my f-ckin’ target practicin’
blast her with gallons of c-m when i’m dabblin’
in arts and crafts, magic happenin’ after it’s dark
and after i park
i’m harvestin’ parts of her body
and droppin’ in for a quick swim like a hammerhead shark
then it’s back to the start
look at me, look at me, look at me now
then i snapchat that

[hook]
smash that, slap it with a motherf-ckin’ hashtag
trash bag, sn-tch her gash, and throw it in my backpack
throwback to prozac, i’m stashin’ cash from great depression
yeah, i stole that, fifty grand from your d-mn pension plan
gettin’ kodak, picture perfect plan, i got the upper hand
roadhouse, you know that, tear your f-ckin’ throat out
cognac, i pout that, shootin’ down your old -ss
go back, so that’s every song i recorded
or tracks that i thought to be somewhat important

i’m f-cking k!llin’ it
this track just got aborted

[verse 2]
thin is in, so you know that flushing be here whippin’ ‘em
gettin’ ‘em into dresses that their fat -sses ain’t fittin’ in
it’s f-ckin’ sickenin’
stickin’ my d-ck in -ssistin’ in
gettin’ these b-tches to throw up
makin’ her cough up my kid so he can’t grow up (b-tch)
better watch your eyes
b-tch’s ribs be pokin’ ‘em out
lookin’ like it’s jesus christ
who’s f-ckin’ showin’ up now
i’m f-ckin’ chokin’ him out
and then i’m throwin’ him down
and i’m pullin’ out nine-inch switchblades to help his hands hold him out
then i’m sendin’ planes to the places that you trade in, it’s goin’ down

scotch

so glad that one day this sh-t will all be over
thank you, and i’m sorry . . . f-ck
scotch

[bridge]
everythin’ is fine, we’re all gonna die
everythin’ is fine, we’re all gonna die
everythin’ is fine, we’re all gonna die
everythin’ is fine, we’re all gonna die
everythin’ is fine, we’re all gonna die (so f-ck it)
everythin’ is fine, we’re all gonna die (so f-ck it)
everythin’ is fine, we’re all gonna die (so f-ck it)
everythin’ is fine, we’re all gonna die

[breakdown]
everythin’ is fine, we’re all gonna die
everythin’ is fine, we’re all gonna die
everythin’ is fine, we’re all gonna die
everythin’ is . .

- flushing scotch lyrics

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