paroles de chanson Toe Tags & Broken Skulls - Fukkit
Yo,
shoutout
ZCR
for
the
beat
([?],
badda-bing,
Badda-boom,
you
make
the
moves,
you
just
gotta
flip)
(They'll
never
understand,
man)
One
take
(You
don't
gotta
worry
about
a
fuckin'
thing)
(I'm
convinced
they
will
never
Understand
the
genius
that
is
Fukkit,
man)
Yeah
(It's
beyond
human
comprehension)
Uh,
yeah
(Heh)
(You
feel
me?
It's
beyond—
It's
beyond
the
primitive
mindset,
you
feel
me?)
Yeah
(Badda-bing,
badda-boom)
(Y'all
gotta
evolve
to
keep
up
with
this
one,
uh-huh)
Uh,
yeah
(Uh,
nah,
I'm
playing,
I'm
a
dumbass)
Uh,
you
could
get
touched,
bitch
You
could
get
touched,
bitch,
we
not
playing
tag,
uh
Head
taps
during
traffic
jams
on
the
ave,
uh
Think
out
the
box
while
you
still
rockin'
some
plaid
Taking
trips
to
the
bank,
mask
off,
get
the
bag,
uh
You
know
how
I
rock,
not
no
fuckin'
Black
Flag,
uh
If
he
send
a
shot,
got
the
'K
with
the
mag,
uh
Up
and
down
the
block,
spinning
'round,
doing
laps,
uh
Shit
was
always
sunny
till
I
pulled
up
with
the
MAC
She
singing
off-key,
that's
'cause
I
fucked
her
from
the
back,
uh
Niggas
sad
they
lost,
so
I
told
'em
get
a
map,
uh
Stopped
in
yo'
tracks,
send
that
shit
back
to
the
trash,
uh
Pop
off
yo'
cap
like
a
Snapple,
that's
a
fact,
uh
Niggas
really
wack,
I
dont
mind
statin'
that,
uh
I
been
'bout
my
business
but
I
kick
it
with
the
slacks
Check
my
bank
account,
it's
digits
while
I
sit
at
home,
relaxed
(Uh)
My
flow
tight
like
a
fitted
with
the
T-shirt
print
to
match,
uh
Flow
could
start
a
fire,
y'all
ain't
really
been
a
match,
uh
Never
gettin'
past,
Randy
Moss
with
the
catch
I'm
breathing
in
the
gas,
ain't
been
wetting
up
a
rag
Dropping
bombs
like
Iraq
and
my
kush
Afghanistan,
uh
Heat
up
like
a
pan,
told
my
fans
don't
be
a
stan
Got
the
product
with
the
plan,
all
detailing
where
we
stand
Kept
it
a
thousand
like
a
grand,
nipple
rings
on
my
hand
She
gon'
blow
me
like
a
fan,
not
the
best
I
ever
had
(Uh)
If
I
fuck
once,
I
don't
gotta
fuck
again
(Fuck)
Send
her
to
the
cab,
don't
come
back
without
a
friend
(Fuck)
What
does
that
mean?
I'm
only
here
to
meet
my
ends
(Fuck)
You
can
take
my
shirt,
go
'head
and
suck
me
out
the
pants,
huh
(Fuck)
I
been
smokin'
green,
like
some
lean,
like
some
plants
Celery,
collard
greens,
coppin'
Ps
for
a
snack
On
her
chest,
where
I
rest
True
indeed,
that's
a
rack,
uh
Bitch,
I
might
bleed
you
If
I
see
you,
that's
a
stack
(Okay),
huh

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