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A Name I Call Myself Lyrics - Artist : Souls Of Mischief
Ha hah... hahaha!
Yo y'all wanna know about hoes? Check it out... yo Adam is the man that got more honies than a hive of Bees, I skeeze, I'm pullin stunts like MacGyver And I try to, always be patient with a Miss But I diss 'cause groupies always seem to make me pissed Huh, they gotta be frontin', wantin' to start a phony friendship I never pretend, the thing I befriend be them hips And send dips, back to they moms with a grin But if she's a boo boo head I tell no-one that I got in Yo, skins friends I got a lotta, and I gotta Bend them and then blend all the hottie Spurts be burstin like a mile a minute 'Cause I can either take it slow or yo I wild up in it I'm pulling, yes 'cause fully dressed or threadbare they're nice I twist my sides to tickle thighs when my head's there I now rips sets so foul dips spread my rep I sew the girls up like Schweppes, so many kids might fret Afterwards I'm bouncing dips like tits on chicks Who be running track, but they be running back for more Rest assured, it's absurd for her to be on linger I get the finger, 'cause she can't get the stinger Any longer, my dong can stretch and I'm stronger I got the daddy ding-a-ling to get you hot and bothered Get the kinks out when my stink in the pink shout and scream But a second fling is but a dream From day one I played hoes in the schoolyard, my tool heartless But not for dips submerging it ain't hurt men to merge in My status, from baddest to Tims, I'm pulling more hips Than gravity, and after the skins get hit, I'm drowsing Arousing the next dousing the next gals in my saliva The liver ones 'cause I don't strive to run in no dumb females Some be swell, but, my picks so why tricks Get restricted to flicks with boo boo heads, I screw you dead I call myself the man I call myself the man I call myself the man I call myself the man I call myself the man I call myself the man I call myself the man I call myself the man Niggas cling, and get attached to things on the fluke That's insane, I just be in and bang, get boots For gosh sakes, that broad shakes, her thang to the whole game The way the labia lips hang it's a sad shame Clapping when you're tapping, just hit the scraps and be at 'em The breasts sag like they're saddened The skins are wrinkled, dry, worn, and battered Leave her shattered, she's as fly as a maggot The him I am, the man I'm him Bustin' skins out, I been stout, erect Checkin' dips when I'm wreckin' lips and clitorises Hit her with this (Boom bow bang!) Swinging from my you-know-what So you know butt cheeks are clapping Tapping the guts on the late with your date makes my ego flip Read those lipstick marks on my penal tip They don't lie, penis trip your dip to her thighs Fly is my description, wise, when I'm making them lips bend I hit it, I did it, I admit it I never quit it, yes, I knock the boots like I was Riddick Bowe, get with it, ho, I get with No, Boomerang broads with nasty toes Keep your corns on your husk you muskrat But if she's fly, I try to bust that Gluteus maximus, I wax and bust I'm taxin' just to be the mack man Plus Once I been with women, friendship done been the sole outcome How come skins can't work their way in? The question resting late night at her pad and Scheming to grabbing season, 'cause she's in I fiend, getting mad horny, transforming charges Into swinging me, seemingly hard miss Let her know that I was on it Now I got dibs on that crib, I'm welcome back 'cause I'm Kotter I call myself the man I call myself the man I call myself the man I call myself the man I call myself the man I call myself the man I call myself the man I call myself the man |
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