sketch the bottom feeder – rain ft. jc the cancer lyrics
(j.c. the cancer)
yo
demon acrobat, h-ll i’m walkin’ the tightest rope
screamin’ f-ck god ‘till i get hit with a lightning bolt
human dynamo, i’m dynamite when behind the mic
i’ll slice a dyk- and trade her a mic & ike for a line of c-ke
a word is a word, what the f-ck makes a word different?
i set fire to churches and f-ckin’ burn scriptures
my thoughts turn twisted
i’ll stick my d-ck in twin midgets and i’m rapin’ ‘em -n-lly if they play with me
i’m makin’ it clear: you’ll get sodomized through the rear
b-tch get down like the columbine shooter’s here
i’m new to queers, give those f-ggots vasectomies
and sh-t on their tombstones, never can let ‘em rest in peace
and while you’re fast asleep, i’m finna crash your dreams
just ‘cause i have to pee, then dance like master p
i’ll make your cranny bleed and leave her p-ssy burning
like the twin towers or lit sour
rapin’ her -ss and while she bleed c-m
i’ll be takin’ a bath in charlie sheen’s blood
you know my atheist -ss isn’t a mean thug
just a satanist pedophile who never smiles
rain, gentle rain
summer rain
can intoxicate my brain
insane, maybe so, but i’ll go
(sketch)
f-ck the radio tryna deny cursin’
why can’t they understand i’m not a nice person
i wanna die but i need to live long enough to k!ll enough to make this f-ckin’ life worth it
i ain’t certain this is a sure win, real talk
i got your girlfriend tryin’ on silk bras
i give ‘em a squeeze, ooh baby that feels soft
i bet it feels even better with your skin peeled off
of course what i got in store’s gon’ ruin your day, cheap wh-r-
i swing swords with deloosion and j.c
i’m morgue with horrorcore, so move out the way before
you get torn up like the poodle in beijing
it’s foolish to face me, place your bets i’m best
i’m sure you’ve heard it said that sketch is a brutal insane beast
when b-tches tell me they feelin’ extra fresh i just say ya don’t spread your legs, the booty’s the main feast
but i’m aimin’ for the tongue when i j-zz, then when i’m done with the b-tch
i hit the lab ‘cause the music i make speaks to the youngest of kids
i got ‘em under a bridge, we’re less than vets in exchange for some soup and some baked beans
i’m a connoisseur who considers sewage a great drink
with a bunch of stupid spitters, my crew is a regime
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