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kerser - these kunts lyrics

(kerser)
yeah
rocking that gold, i’m bout to buy a range brah (today)
tint the windows got ya b-tch in the same car!
kerser one! i’m with forts and rates
i got your f-cken head nodding like ya scored some h!
so pick it up! let me take you on a mission tonight (come on!)
i’ll spread ya b-tches legs just to f-cking p-ss on her thigh!
i’ve reached a level of fame, i met the devil again, (sup bro)
pulled a hammer and pushed a m-th- f-cken peg in his brain!
i’m insane…every day of the week
kick ya mouth and f-cken spell out abk with ya t–th!
i’m getting money thanks to rap! i put c-town on tha map!
but they copy what we do so we bout to take it back!!!
rock a show, count the cash in a five star
notes are left white after racking up some lines brah!
it’s all the same f-cken state 2 state
i left her f-cken -ss branded with a abk, touche!!!

-chorus-
(fortay)
these kunts! they can suck me off!
(rates)
suck! suck! suck! suck! suck! suck!
(fortay)
suck me off!
(rates)
suck! suck! suck! suck! suck! suck!
(fortay)
suck me off!
(rates)
suck! suck! suck! suck! suck! suck!
(fortay)
these kunts! they can suck me off!
(rates)
suck! suck! suck! suck! suck! suck!
(fortay)
suck me off!
(rates)
suck! suck! suck! suck! suck! suck!
(fortay)
suck me off!
(rates)
suck! suck! suck! suck! suck! suck!

(fortay)
ask someone what i stay bout son
first word was c-nt cause i came out one!
chasing pay never runnin from sh-t
west syd bred a beast, imma son of a b-tch!
weak sh-ts, see fort ain’t bout dat!
f-ck the rat race, never caught in the mouse trap!
and i don’t care about the chronic you get gronk!
c-nts quick to roll like they sonic the hedgehog!
fake gronks can’t do what we do
spit in ya b-tch cl-t and i use it as lube!
and god the only f-cking c-nt that can stop this
flying high with ya b-tch, up in a c-ckpit!
pen and page got me getting the pay!
in the middle of some sh-t, to now centre of stage!
let em hate every word that i talk
imma f-ck em till they love it! rates, kerser and fort!

(rates)
wait ready for war! i’m hunting for the cash
the safe, gonna empty it all! don’t take offence to me or
i’ll have to go and make my point and stomp ya head to the floor!
you can tell ya f-cken boys i make the text to tha call!
i ain’t a hard c-nt, but ratesy man he arks up!
them sparks can start flyin from a pistol if you’re smart c-nt!
they wouldn’t bite this! well wait they can f-cking try it!
i’m hear juggling knives, high, while i’m bustin my rhymes!
hit the stage, vodka, red bull and a couple of blunts!
living on a ride, now only just to adjust to the buzz!
so why you f-cken with us? i’m whilin out
and while she’s in a rage, ya lucky he ain’t cuttin you up!
you c-nts are rappin tones of energy, this isn’t sons of anarchy!
i gotta hot shot for ya b-tch, the f-cking remedy!
this tha west syd sh-t, the district, the south west!
never leave a fight, without you walking the town a mess!

- kerser lyrics

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