Belly of The Beast

Maniac off Xanny bars
Sack like Santa Claus
That puts you in the figure-four
My literature is like I wrote it in silver
And you're on the podium with speech of rhodium
Your bitch like a leech on my scrotum
Ho tried to kill the dick, strangled them and choked 'em
After she was done I looked down at my penis
Like, she really ain't mean it
Nigga, I'm anemic with the ink, you a Stevie Wonder blink
I take a piss in that same sink you wash dishes with
You're illiterate, ya Bisquick soft
I pulled the biscuit then you dipped like cocktail sauce
I eat so many shrimp I got iodine poison
Hoes on my dick 'cause I look like Roy Orbison
Got a foursome with four fours and I called it a twelve
One was chubby, one was ugly, wack as hell (Ah)

This can't be real, I'm in a dream
I don't have skin, I just shine
They can't contain me, I'm free
It feels like losing your mind

Psycho, crazy, deranged
Spittin' on tracks like oncoming train
Vocal laid down like tower of burnin' flame
Sippin' gasoline, made her pour canteen
Stone Temple Pilot crashed in to the wall
While listenin' to Wu-Tang and rubbin' on his balls
Off them bars of footballs, thoughts playin' foosball
In VIP, sleep with shades on the boo-ya
So bitch, bust that shit open like you landed knee-first
Let me stick my finger in it, what it smell like, birth?
If it smell like syrup you gon' get this work
But if it smell like perch, gotta disperse
I'm a pervert wearin' sherbet, take your baby mama, turn her
As a youngin' mama should have handcuffed me to the furnace

This can't be real, I'm in a dream
I don't have skin, I just shine
They can't contain me I'm free
It feels like losing your mind



Credits
Writer(s): Daniel Sewell, Paul Williams White, Steven Umoh
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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