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Blow Lyrics - Artist : Tyler, The Creator
If this was a game
I already know that I would come out winning And I'm not bragging, I'ma be in her But this bitch really think that I'm 'bout to buy her dinner My steak good, I got a good cut like splinter Juicy and hot, such a black-bitch temper Now she wanna talk and chop it up like a blender But I don't give a fuck or even list-en like Schindler She's cute, but her forehead's big Got stretch marks like she got four kids Her legs can't close like the four-doorhinge Bronco That O.J. killed the white whores with A wealthy white girl without the facelift Lure her with expensive dinners and a nice bracelet Leave the bitch breathless What the bitch don't know is that I'm a motherfuckin' sellout and a rapist Baby, you're an angel How about we turn this into a fable of some sort? You already know you're dead Ironic 'cause your lipstick's red, of course I stuff you in the trunk, drunk 'Cause all I really wanna do is fuck and snort blow And snort Blow If this was a game I would be considered a motherfucking legend And I ain't trying to gas you like Chevron But I'm high as fuck, bitch, you really need to get on my leverage Now, we're in the cabin, in the middle of ("Uh...") Tryna find ways to really stuff you in my cabinet Dreamy little bastard, I done ran out of luck So now, it's time for a bloody foot, you little rabbit You're very attractive And notice that my hat is always the color of cactus (And I hang with wolves) 'Cause I'm an evil bastard Pictures of you on my wall No glue, no tape, but just cum, plastered Met you at my school, departed at my house Ended at your panties, started at your blouse Pushed you downstairs, I took a nap up on the couch If you wanted a date, don't come Now, you gotta make it easy for you, don't run You call this shit "kids?" Well, I call these kids "cum" And you call this shit "rape," but I think that rape's fun Wait, now it's about eight-something It's late, and you stuck down in my base-one Come downstairs with nothing but a shoe-string Yeah, bitch, this date's done Baby, you're an angel How about we turn this into a fable of some sort? You already know you're dead Ironic 'cause your lipstick's red, of course I stuff you in the trunk, drunk 'Cause all I really wanna do is fuck and snort blow And snort (Wanna watch a movie?) Blow Baby, you're an angel How about we turn this into a fable of some sort? (Watch a movie) You already know you're dead Ironic 'cause your lipstick's red, of course I stuff you in the trunk, drunk (Bright lights) 'Cause all I really wanna do is fuck and snort blow And snort (We could go anywhere) Blow I like my girls how I like my drugs: White Lord, you're so pretty Lying in my arms I just got one request: Stop breathing |
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