Machete

Keep that machete stashed and swing it on that ass!
Yo who the fuck is this?
Spittin limitless, you minimalist bitch
Something wrong with your brain if you ain't feeling this.
We bout to blow the fuckin club up like some terrorists,
Prepare to die, with my face planted in a pair of tits.
You must admit this is the shit that make you sip a drug
And then you drink it, drink it up
You think it's safe, but you know what?
It never is, accept what it is, killin' the scene, know what it is
The deeper I dig, the sicker I get,
Fuckin with shit you can never forget.
I got some holes in my head, and I fill em up with trash,
I suppose that I'm dead but you probably shouldn't ask,
I got some hoes in my bed and you worth a hundred cash,
Once I. keep that machete stashed, just swing it on that ass! Bangin heads like some motherfuckin rockstars,
Incite riots and lights shining in cop cars.
Hot bars, only fuck with hot broads,
No 5's or 7's if they ain't dimes they knockoffs.
Sit in the grave, live as a slave, kickin the shit in the wickedest haze
Slash like a razor, I'm movin your face
You think that you ill? that isn't the case.
Real as they come, number the one
Can't feel my face, number then numb
Pulling the smoke as I come to the lawn Higher this year, dumber then dumb I got some holes in my head then I fill em up with trash
I suppose that I'm dead but you probably shouldn't ask
I got some hoes in my bed and you worth hundred in cash
cause'I. keep that machete stashed, and swing it on that ass I got some holes in my head then I fill em up with trash
I suppose that I'm dead but you probably shouldn't ask
I got some hoes in my bed and you worth hundred in cash
cause'I. keep that machete stashed, and swing it on that ass Datsik,
Snak the Ripper
Young Sin,
Motherfucker!



Credits
Writer(s): Troy Beetles, William Fyvie, Brandon Lucas
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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