Текст песни Too Much (Remix) - Cage
Blue
collar
to
corporate
blessed
the
unfortunate
Like
when
I
put
my
foot
down
that
bitch
still
aborted
it
Stuck
the
canister
under
my
jacket
like
the
lucky
one
'Uh,
sir
you
can't
leave
with
that,'
Bitch
this
my
fucking
son!
Put
with
the
gun
crammed
in
the
glovebox
With
151
rum
bottles,
I
don't
drink,
they
gettin'
flung
With
lit
rags
in
it,
kill
10
step-dads
a
minute
Still
won't
be
a
star
till
the
label
as
a
gimmick
Even
if
I
limit
timid
com-mi-tive
cynics
Each
one
famous
suicide
at
gunpoint
to
mimic
You
too
can
be
a
mock-celeb
or
the
last
there
is
Or
be
ghost
like
money
that
played
Casper
in
kids
I
put
a
sick
twist
every
other
frame
design
so
You
see
AIDS
victims
selling
pretzels
at
a
slideshow
With
a
nine
shown
I
brand
and
skin
'em
Run
out
of
punchlines
when
you
kids
stop
standin'
in
'em
Yo
Chris
I
think
they
think
you
know
too
much
Yeah
Sis
I
think
you
put
coke
up
your
nose
too
much
They
cut
my
hands
off
so
I
couldn't
hold
too
much
They
try
to
kill
me
through
my
dick
with
these
hoes
too
much
You
stack
dough
too
much
You
smack
hoes
too
much
Well
you
can
blame
it
on
the
mint
leaves
I
roll
too
much
They
cut
my
hands
off
so
I
couldn't
hold
too
much
Don't
try
to
stand
off,
bullet
holes
show
too
much
They
see
weed
on
dust
with
an
ounce
a
pound
Is
like
jumping
out
of
building
grabbing
napkins
on
the
way
down
My
impant
I
scarred,
I'm
anti-star
Though
I
shine
like
one
buried
underground
with
yall
And
I
tried
to
learn
good
just
wasn't
concerned,
should
I
really
be
on
my
sixth
bottle
of
wormwood
My
skin
is
burnin'
blisternin'
aloe
ow
Dragged
this
big
fat
bitch
in
to
see
Shallow
Hal
I
drink
Jack
puff
black
in
Orange
County
Bought
a
gun
with
a
body
to
stick
in
this
whore's
Audi
Knew
this
kid
Craze
he
would
stick
dope
on
a
chick
open
ha'
Then
I
changed
my
name
to
Cage
like
Nick
Coppola
All
these
snakes
with
these
forked
tongues
stitched
together
After
I
put
down
the
pepper
I
switch
the
weather
Whatever
rights
they
want
to
shrug
off
for
safety
feelin'
taken
For
a
Rabbi
appearance
cuz
they
kneelin'
to
Satan
Then,
I
stepped
over
the
bloody
axe
frame
with
wax
fame
Rogue
pistol
runnin'
through
New
York
like
Max
Payne
Out
shootin'
celebs,
I'm
rootin'
for
feds
In
a
pit
of
lions
then
we
sip
shoot
from
the
heads
I
run
with
maniacs
liable
to
kill
at
any
minute
then
I
wonder
why
I
can't
shake
this
insanity
image
It's
been
a
dead
Cage
since
I've
strapped
to
beds
And
shot
up
with
needles
and
five
since
I
put
gats
to
heads
You
was
bitch
in
high
school
no
rep
no
threat
Riding
my
jacket
like
I'm
a
hand
off
the
fans
at
coat
check
Haters
want
to
put
they
bitches
up
no
stress
Like
your
life
in
the
monitor
box
behind
the
desk
I
scribble
shit
on
paper,
pay
rent,
look
at
nature
See
a
menage
before
lunch,
them
bitches
are
ravers
Drive
blazers,
still
inside
my
North
Face
Drippin'
formaldahyde
and
short-circuit
my
tazer
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