Dirty Potty (feat. Bruhmanegod)

11, 11, 11, 11 hours I'm spending atop a dirty potty
No spending power don't bend for parties that hurt me body
I'm workin' thoughts, in a burning pot I don't curtsy often
I'm using poison making noise until I fill me coffin
I'll have you know I don't want nothing to do with you losers
Ain't we all losin' ourselves to the point we lose confusion
I feel buzzing all over my damn nerves
Tobaccy burning no longer a damn herb
Disgusting substance in my gullet, fuck it, pull it
Pussy gotta take a breath
Step outside it's best for life
Or just request your time of death
Where you'll find there's never time to change your mind for how you live
God or goddess ganja lock it in a muthafuckin' web (Smoke)
Time for muthafuckin' bed
All these products placin' puss inside the common kind of med
I'll be smoking till I'm dead
TV is evil all these people get fucked
I need diesel, you need evil you stuck, uh
Relieve your penis, you need semen to bust, I
I'm BMG
I don't people please for none
One more round I pull up on a muthafuckin' fridge
I need some more balance out it in the fuckin' mix
Split big cigs, ever been mook sick
Foot so big, homies cooked so quick

Huh (Mmm)
I'm feeling one with particulate matter
Off a barbiturate shatter
Quaalude and this bit of clatter
Clinking containers
I'm never thinking of haters
I used to drink until later
But now I drink when the paper come in
Drinking potater like vodka
Drinking agave tequila
Quiet the neighbors'll hear ya whisper
Take my turn upon the toilet on the shitter
Paper crisper when you procreatin' litter
There is always a place that your trash has to inhabit
In habitats of rabbits
In habits grab and stab it
This faggot is very ragged
From self inflicted poising
Ingestion of this ethanol
Can't even smell the testicles
That linger on his breath at all
F it all
Spectacles, impeccable
Detect the bullshit
Dissectible amphibian that swimming in it (Ooh)
I brought a bit of bud hey bud, hit? (Cool)
I bought a bit of bud off Bud's bitch (Who?)
The figure quick in her knickers the picker licked a nigga wallet
Tried to call it, with my cellphone
Hell no
Trick her not by slipping her liquor
By knocking out her cold
Boutta ronda rousey this lousy hoe
Pockets bountiful
I found the fold inside of her
Jacket get back to counting fools
Mountain souls
Mounted in the stone and on the paper
Look me, look me in my eyes before I buy this booty shaker, George
But Mister Benjamin he hold her in the morning
He say Brittany or Lauren opportunity is whoring
Sell your soul and never do a thing again
Paper men
I'm just spitting some important for domestic
And for foreign
If you drinking you might rap until you dead
Save your meds



Credits
Writer(s): Joshua Hamilton, Alexander Wacksman
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link