hh slater - 10 toez 4 tha hoez lyrics
[hook: hh slater]
p-ssy tramplin’, -rg-sm managin’
stick your foot in, then try to f-ckin’ stand in it
alot of women want it, but afraid that they can’t handle it
candles lit, ten toes for the hoes, jammin’ it
(x2)
[verse 1: hh slater]
this is the p-ssy vendetta, no pleasure better, i separate
l-b–s so wet and she’s sweaty, let me investigate
radio won’t play this, they’re afraid that i’m a s-d-st
you can hate it all you want, but bottom line is i penetrate
watch me as i demonstrate, these drillholes i’m demolishin’
drop the top and ventilate, fillin’ these hoes with oxygen
touch it, rub it, f-ck it, c-nt punt a b-tch in public, trust it
all these sl-ts want is a sample of what you’re offerin’
b-tch, i got some happy feet, so all these hoes keep asking me
“daddy, will you fracture me and stick your foot way back in me?”
and i swear to god my swag is like a f-ckin’ tractor beam
attracting all these broads as nazarene of p-ssy trampling
i’m jesus christ to heathen dyk-s, this is the gospel
twelve on my d-ck, eatin’ right, that’s my apostles
b-tches suck my nuts cause they taste like falafel
tried to spray it on their b-tts, but my aim is f-cking awful
[hook: hh slater]
[verse 2: hh slater]
some people question me about my m-th-f-ckin’ antics
hopeless romantic, with dreams of foot and p-ssy sandwich
now tell me what’s the problem if these b-tches all demand it
they’re on a waiting list to get their greatest wishes granted
genital damage, but the kick is bliss
the b-tch ecstatic, so i chew her cl-t like licorice
movements erratic, she’s shakin’ and spazzin’, ticklish
i’m superswaggin’ and takin’ some nasty images
cause i’m a freak though, you know i love a peep show
bust out the d70 if hoes is tryna deep throat
i’m stompin’ out erect cl-ts like finished cigs
toes ticklin’ her ribs, man to hoes, i am thee pope
ski slope, c0ke, now i’m f-ckin’ on one
teein’ off these b-tches because i forgot my condom
seein’ all these digits in my phone because i’m awesome
or dumb, this was just a joke, f-ck it, song done
[hook: hh slater]
[verse 3: gatsby]
moist lips dictatorship, stomp once, crater sh-t
pedally agitating p-ssy, and i’mma shape this b-tch
size eleven sn-tch which implies lesson p-ssed
essence de la -ss, all my toe means end of session, cashed
mashed like potatoes, c-mmin’ more frequent than payrolls
sticky like maple from the country like chris cagle
f-ck love, all i want is toenail penetration
get it past the ankles and try to cut off my circulation
double tap these stagnant b-tches as they scream and moan, “splice me!”
fragment pieces in the neighborhood before i ice cream
light green, colors out the c-nt i’ve never seen
bruises, bumps, and little lumps, lookin’ like, beverly
better be promethazine in that cup you’re handing me
cali weed and codeine, leaning hard like turkey beef
butcher these young cl-ts, turning slits into slots
doesn’t fit, now it’s clogged, she needs a p-ssy catalog
mazel tov, diamonds lookin’ like a jewish nose
higher than a ufo, kickin’ it with hoes, f-ck a pubic bone
hit it like a music note, then change it like a movie role
do it all again and rap about it in the studio
[hook: hh slater]
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