Benoit
Ay, Backwood filled with that (ah) fire
Y'all boys smoking on, shh, quiet
Diamonds, they singing like they in a choir
Bumping new Bones, this taste is acquired
Ninety percent of the game is lies
So staging the lyrics, they didn't even write
Get on their knees for suits and ties
Then they complain 'bout the paper they signed
Pussy-ass bitch, time to man the fuck-up
They could doubt you, but can they duck us?
Two fingers crossed, hopin' that they luck up
PGA money, I'll stick to the putt-putt
I get so cashed, I look in the mirror like
"Pleasure to meet you" (pleasure to meet you)
If I had a genie, all three of my wishes would be not to meet you
They say they shooting like Sammy the squid, but that don't put fear in me (no, no)
'Cause I got the rocket and I got the power like wiggity, wiggity (yeah, yeah)
You would turn into Chris Benoit if you saw how your wife looked at me (ooh)
I don't got nothing to follow that up, that's terrible (yeah, yeah)
Bitch, tell me something I don't know
My razor, it cut 'em in slo-mo
Dump 'em and gut 'em, I cut 'em like butter, my battery full, I'ma overload
Pressing them facts like a photo
Put you on a shirt like a logo
Quietly shaking, he soft, and I'll take him and send that bitch ass where the ghosts go
Lay down, lay down, go to bed, don't say a thing
Lay down, lay down, go to bed, don't say a thing
Y'all boys smoking on, shh, quiet
Diamonds, they singing like they in a choir
Bumping new Bones, this taste is acquired
Ninety percent of the game is lies
So staging the lyrics, they didn't even write
Get on their knees for suits and ties
Then they complain 'bout the paper they signed
Pussy-ass bitch, time to man the fuck-up
They could doubt you, but can they duck us?
Two fingers crossed, hopin' that they luck up
PGA money, I'll stick to the putt-putt
I get so cashed, I look in the mirror like
"Pleasure to meet you" (pleasure to meet you)
If I had a genie, all three of my wishes would be not to meet you
They say they shooting like Sammy the squid, but that don't put fear in me (no, no)
'Cause I got the rocket and I got the power like wiggity, wiggity (yeah, yeah)
You would turn into Chris Benoit if you saw how your wife looked at me (ooh)
I don't got nothing to follow that up, that's terrible (yeah, yeah)
Bitch, tell me something I don't know
My razor, it cut 'em in slo-mo
Dump 'em and gut 'em, I cut 'em like butter, my battery full, I'ma overload
Pressing them facts like a photo
Put you on a shirt like a logo
Quietly shaking, he soft, and I'll take him and send that bitch ass where the ghosts go
Lay down, lay down, go to bed, don't say a thing
Lay down, lay down, go to bed, don't say a thing
Credits
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.