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funkoars – clockwork lyrics

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[commentary: sesta]
yeah, boy!

[verse 1: sesta]
i ain’t try the wine, you couldn’t find a ride
sit it beside a mindset he kind of alike
i’m fornicatin’, asphyxiation
with a bit of rope and gravitation
if you really wanna help maybe whisper somethin’ bit rank
give me five minutes and i’ll finish in your fish tank (uh)
i just signed up for the mars mission
all your bars in the bar kissin’
very sweet, sugar sauce, yum! get lost
wasn’t even diggin’ the idiot that you bitten from
cool as an aryan, cl-ss barbarian (woo!)
anybody here who want it? body and bury ’em
body ready but i ain’t here though
i am james [?], you a f-ckin’ weirdo
i got the abbott daughters caught in a boat
i send ’em back, everything was intact, and then their water broke

[scratches: adfu]
“sh-tty”
“gritty” “terrorize your city”
“sh-tty” “gritty” “keep the chickenheads gobblin'”
“sh-tty” “gritty” “terrorize your city”

[verse 2: hons]
man, we back, goin’ ham on this
i’ma smoke these motherf-ckers till we top the bill like cancer did
that’s [?] no hunt for red october
daylight savings in our bank [?] straight melanomas
ranga rage when i sunburn you
comfortable in my own skin, don’t f-ck with furries here
or a purpose and i’ma share mine
make the compet-tion fall back like hawth-rn’s hair line
g.e., we the genuine elitist
gentlemen in the bedroom, second comin’ like i’m jesus
funkoars, the name hold weight, you even lift, bro?
i’m sh-ttin’ on these rappers, doin’ squats all day
so wave the checkered flag as i cross the line
you still stuck in first gear like a hipster’s bike
ace of spades up my sleeve so i can deal the hand of death
so far surp-ssed next level, we expansion sets

[verse 3: trials]
yeah
they need a laxative like chris brown needs to have an accident
and order my water and started practisin’
karate (pow!), couldn’t even f-ckin’ do pilates
while balancin’ a diet of valium, chicken parmies
and farmies to oxycontin, got my brain droppin’ out my skull
serve it up with plain topping in a bowl (yum)
come and go, bet i seen it before
i pray to god but got a feeling that he’s screenin’ my calls (h-llo?)
that’s your first mistake
i put a razorblade in every single layer of your birthday cake (surprise!)
then i bounce with the plague in a briefcase
on my way to drop it in the middle of the freeway (h-llo)
free paper, piff purple haze (you can feel the heat!)
i could spit and the sh-t would still burn for days
you got a snapchat from new york fat cat (but what?)
no question, the answer is doth

[commentary: sesta & k21]
once again, that’s a wrap my friends
two-thousand-and-fourteen g.e. mixtape over
and just like we do
we gotta end this on a posse track to k!ll all posse tracks
all right, all right, all right, all right
what we got? what we got?
my main man hons is gonna be settin’ this off
followed by the entire crew
peace out my friends!



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