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The ***** Dub

I'll put a brick in my hood

I'll throw a brick to ya dome

I'll shove about anything

To get me through up my nose

And I still flatter them hoes

And get their ******* all wet

Until they drip, drip outta the dryer

I'm washed up they said

Yeah, I'm sauced up too bad

Sick as **** in the head

Don't give a **** about bread

I'm busy countin' my lead

I'm about as sick as they get

So I break up some nugs

Have a *** count my stacks

Line my crib with straight thugs

 

One, two, three, six, click

Clappin' these sixes while she's suckin' my ****

Leavin' my Deagle 'cause I'm wantin' to live

Givin' heaven the finger 'cause I'm lovin' to sin

 

No one gonna stop me

Yeah, nothin' that can top me

I'd wreck a fuckin' Bentley

Then suit up on a Harley

Take a trip to Muncie

And load up on some chronic

And smoke until I'm smellin'

Like a farm of hydroponic

**** I gotta get my mind right

But I can't 'cause I'm livin' in the high life

Not a cent gets spent on a dime, right?

Wrong, I spend it all the time

 

And time keeps tickin'

My watch looks broke 'cause I can't stop spinnin'

Run outta smoke so I tryna hit some resin

My lungs stuck up, but I just keep rippin'

Them souls apart, them hoes apart

Nothin' but the best for my bros so far

I am the number one in this

God-forsaken little blip

Midwestern farmer ****

No one here allowed to spit

But I do everyday

While all my fuckin' neighbors be balin' that hay

Hooray, we got another couple mouths fed

'Til I force-feed 'em an entree of straight lead

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Written by
derek-dale-frazier
American
Published
Jul 4, 2010
Lines·Words
46·297
Permission

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