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funkoars – c.o.t.y lyrics

[verse 1: sesta]
i slide off that bar stool, drive in the car pool
in the bicycle lane next to high schools
side, swipe cyclists
bugging but f-cking, i’m buckled up and, trouble is double
and i’m f-cking with any and many hennies i got
look, no money to show, but show money’s
gotta a lot of bottles on my shelf baby
help yourself, i’m drunk driving on the highway to h-ll
i like to, incite violence
try fighting, die trying, life’s sliding
the bright light’s of the ambo’s my cammo
this liquid ammo
gotta motherf-cker feeling like rambo
i’m the boston strangler, see me in your mother’s jeep wrangler
the new step daddy’s a rapper, banging the back of her
i’m back stabbing her up in the rear
i’ve gotta thank god that i’ve got it the c-nt of the year

[hook: sesta (scratched by dj reflux)]
and if you see me looking f-cking mad
i-i hate c-nts
and if you see me looking f-cking mad
the cu-cu-c-nt of the year
i hate – i hate – i-i hate c-nts
life peaked, and down hill at eight months
and if you see me looking f-cking mad
it’s ’cause i’m f-cking mad

[verse 2: hons]
first and foremost, i’d like to thank the outstanding citizens
for all i’ve done to make me look like a c-nt to live with
at your party, in your jewellery box, taking all the gold
n’ downstairs, drunk as h-ll, pissing all up on your toilet bowl
the first cat to cry poor when it’s my round
so i drink for free at the club
’till your broke then i bounce
man, that sounds nice, don’t it?
full time sc-m bag
move up on your girl, and use your best shirt as my c-m rag
i’m quick to snake and make to f-ck up his whole game
then drag it back to mine
like a caveman on the first train
and when you’re macking a b-tch, i’m rubbing out an easy
one in your cupboard, get my c-ck out where it ain’t wanted
the problem is, i’m an inconsiderate f-ck-wit
with chicks that try to nut quick to avoid that c-nt lick
the funny shit is, even though i’m a prick
then next time we’re at the base, you still buy me a drink

[verse 3: trials]
pissing everywhere but the pisser. sipping spilt liquor off the floor
with a crazy straw from the day before
i’m the type big into binge drinking
crip limping in the club, with a smuggy sixxer now
this can’t be the flavor of the month
do the the sook’s cry foul like the flavour of the, ha
f-ck-ity-f-ck yes, swear like a sailor
and i take shots at death with a credit check chaser
the girls want to be a princess for the night
but the idea dies like princess di
when charles, handy-man with a handy-cam
taking off a beach bunny panties in a sandy van
d-mn, black out, then i’m right back
waking up drunk
dunking down breakfast nightcaps
girl’s like, “f-ck you!” i’m like, “f-ck me!”
so patriotic put the f-cking “c-nt” into country

[outro: sesta & trials]
put your hands together for the c-nts of the year (c-nts of the year)
all right now ladies, what i want you to do is
take your shirt off for the c-nts of the year (c-nts of the year)
listen
keep the drinks coming for the c-nts of the year (c-nts of the year)
look
and grab your br–sts ’cause this is for the c-nts of the year (c-nts of the year)

- funkoars lyrics

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