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jakewolf - how whoreifying! lyrics

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last night, she said she got the f-cking brunt of it
fillin’ up her c-nt and sh-t
never had the time until she got sick of it
the time she f-cking threw a fit
the time she got drunk and f-ckin’ f-cked your best friend

gettin’ laid, gettin’ paid, gettin’ aids, makin’ change
gettin f-cked in the -ss ’cause you’re feelin kinda strange
bombing on stage, yeah, it’s all the f-ckin’ rage
to be a little f-cking wh-r-, just to swallow all your shame

just to play the f-cking game, just to bob your f-cking brain
just to suck a n-gg-‘z d-ck that doesn’t even know your name
got that sh-t to a habit
habitually ask for the keys to his car to go buy some more crack

ask her after how many n-gg- d-cks she f-cking gagged to get the bag
or m-st-rb-t- to get your dealer to shave a few bucks, give a wh-r- a helping hand
yeah, the p-ssy’s in demand, gettin’ f-cked right where you stand
n-gg-, i won’t f-cking stand for the sh-t she had planned
put a little bit of stress on your little bit of br–sts
for the slick d-ck pimp with a hairy f-cking chest

yeah, you’ll make a f-cking mess
when you’re bending over back to make a man you thought you had
give a f-ck about the sh-t you f-ckin’ thought you f-ckin’ had
gettin’ tired, gettin’ fired from the job that you were hired from, fired from, prior transpired from
wired on the sh-t you been smokin’ on, d-ck you been hoppin’ on, jockin’ on
givin’ out disease at a place you got whereupon
people got the cough and the brawn like genghis khan
withdrawn or drawing from the gl-ss d-ck not the bong
why not the bong? why not take a break, sir? contemplate, sir, the things you could replace her with
girl, you got a champ starin’ at your t-ts

that fool ain’t got sh-t on me, he don’t even know he’s kissing tragedy

but f-ck all the b-tches that got no self respect gettin’ checked b-tt naked
let me interject, infect, and start a mess, starin’ at your br–sts
your grill’s too whack to be addressed, you think your grill’s too hot to molest or invest some time in less s-x, less rejects
less checks cashed to buy crack and meth or c-ke instead
bringin’ in bread for your kids
dark red lipstick on the tip of a d-ck to get fed
mislead by the man you had in bed, stopped dead in your tracks, gettin’ pumped full of lead for coming out the side of your neck
so let me be the first to say i hate the way
all you b-tches take the time to portray yourselves
in a way that sells s.k.a.n.k
s.k.a.n.k



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