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sketch the bottom feeder - puke on the page ft. jc the cancer lyrics

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(sketch)
k!ll ‘em, i’ll hurt ‘em, i’ll rape ‘em, i’ll strangle ‘em
choke ‘em
just beat the f-ckin’ sh-t out of her just keep punchin’ and punchin’ and punchin’
(why do i feel like this?
i just want them to feel like i feel
it shouldn’t feel like that, it shouldn’t get to feel like that
why do i feel like this, i don’t wanna feel like this!)

i try to stay calm and show patience
but until i’m played on a radio station, my quotations are napalm
i’ll a-bomb the whole nation
just so maybe one of my singles’ll get a little bit of rotation
slow pacin’ around the room
i wake up with a beer and then i’m drinkin’ crown at noon
at six o’clock i’m back to poundin’ brews
i’m a menace to society, hennesy inside of me, i’m finished with sobriety
i’d rather hit the bar and binge on the cheapest beer on tap than hear y’all rap, i cringe when you spit a bar
i control the flow like a navy commander
the question of who’s the best, sketch may be the answer
me and j.c. the cancer are spittin’ like a couple panthers with rabies
we make ‘em wanna see more like a dancer with pasties
you just another lame dude, singin’ the same tune
you make me wanna change you like a baby in pampers

(hook)
what do i gotta do to prove i’m deranged?
my speech is, like leeches that chew on your brain
i don’t even write rhymes, i puke on the page
read the vomit and drop an atomic nuke on the stage
(x2)

(j.c. the cancer)
soon as i came out the womb, i raped lucifer’s mother
i left her gashed from the gl-ss when i used it to cut her
and bust a nut, in that sl-t without usin’ a rubber
and ripped her kidneys out her -ss just to chew it for supper
i’m a psychotic motherf-cker, addicted to adderall
alcohol in my system and i gotta get another (yup.)
i haven’t eaten in three days, ? and then he
slept at denny’s and askin’ a b-tch for b.j.’s
like he’s strange, sittin’ there with a clean plate
mean face, scarin’ my mom and my little brother
i may seem calmer than dahmer i’m not a b-mmer
but i’m in depression like the economy’s in the gutter
i envy happiness, keep getting sent to -n-lysts but k!lling tracks with the bottom feeder is funner
done waiting for a smile like waiting for p-rn to buffer
i’m no longer in denial, i know i was born to suffer

(hook x2)

(sketch)
my style is like a chicken, or a ref blowin’ a whistle:
it’s foul, i seek gals like shallow hal
because i know the b-tches i’m bangin’ are fat
if a hooker weighs any less than tree-fitty, i ain’t payin’ for that
i’d never buy a bottle of bubbly over a beer
‘cause i’m broke as f-ck and i haven’t been sober in years
methamphetamine’s has me blowin’ through lights, whether it’s red or green
i’ve never seen the better things cheddar brings
i’m real ill, clinically insane
i chill, and drink until, i’m minimally in pain
after a pound of reefer i’m a sound sleeper
i’ve grown more trees, and blown more leaf than a groundskeeper
on shrooms i’m trippin’, the room is flippin’
too f-cked up to be in public, pretty soon i’m dippin’
but i can’t really walk straight, so it’s hard to bounce
i’ll spit a verse for a tallboy, a bar per ounce

(hook x2)



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