garry with two r’s – my spell lyrics
my spell lyrics
[verse 1]
god d+mn when ya’ comin’ up
ya’ see a lot of sh+t goin’ down
and if it’s true that opposites attract
all my hoes would be f+ckin’ clowns
if i say it’s ‘tween me and you
ya’ better not make a f+ckin’ sound
it’s a whole lot of money here
not a whole lot of love around
boy i done bagged two b+tches
i just watch ’em tongue each other down
all them cliches ain’t true
i go around i don’t cum around
i’m ’bout to turn this sh+t the f+ck up
look both the women and the sun is down
i keep an eye out for them devils
them lil’ c+nts is so cunnin’ now
i get on tracks like a street walker
f+ck ’em up and get paid for it
i don’t care if you a paraplegic
run it up like you got lеgs for it
you know how i lay it down
f+ck around and make a bed for it
got the lil’ b+tch on hеr knees
wit’ a open mouth ’bout to beg for it
i ain’t really come here to talk
and if you did call ted wh0re
suck a d+ck ’til ya’ head sore
i’m just here to get fed more
and fo’ you end up assed out
understand what you headed toward
ya’ stack it up and then ya’ loaf around
f+ck you think they call it bread for?
[verse 2]
i got it all and i been had it
i let you think that that’s yo’ sh+t
until i need to use it and then i grab it
anybody try crossin me
bout to walk away lookin’ stigmatic
lil’ b+tch got a d+ck habit
introduced her to a lovesense
now she turnin’ tricks that’s big magic
i don’t deal with no small fries
i like them motha’ f+ckas’ waffle size
trust me baby i’m a right swipe
you gon’ love me like taco time
ya’ might as well not come at all
if ya’ think ya’ can’t come on time
my schedule tight as yo’ sn+tch is
and everything gotta’ run on time
i beat the beat like a f+ckin’ cancer
on my toes like a ballet dancer
you will not control none of the vibes
i made the test so i got the answers
i was raised to be a good man
but i been pickin’ up some bad manners
i’m at yo’ throat like a bandana
got evil ways like santana
i got a black magic woman
won’t make a move ’til she funded
half in the back and then half in the front end
we gonna’ ball got a grip and won’t fumble it
put up the dough and i double it
she gonna’ bring in her cousin
no need to f+ck ’em the isms’ll touch ’em
i got ’em buzzin’ and bussin’
i’m all in they head like a f+ckin’ concussion
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