Текст песни Fire and Brimstone - DJ Quik
I
don't
give
a
fuck
about
you,
you,
her
That
bitch,
that
nigga,
ya'll,
them
Pussy
clot
laws
dripping
out
ya'll
trim
'Bout
to
fill
ya
cup
up
to
the
rim
with
brimstone
Fuck
yo
Grammy
Stick
the
bell
part
up
ya
ass
call
ya
mammy
I
don't
need
ya
love
muthafucka
god
damn
he
Critics
wanna
slam
me
Put
me
in
a
jam
till
I
come
back
with
the
jammy
Blaow,
knock
your
whole
car
window
out
till
ya
eyes
white
out
bitch
lights
out
Got
you
dead
on
arrival
at
your
service
on
Saturday
your
whole
family
carry
bibles
Got
the
whole
building
nervous,
they
turn
around
see
me
walk
up
in
the
service
I
wrote
your
eulogy
on
toilet
paper,
right
out
in
the
rain
Niggas
got
nerve,
well
I'm
your
novacane
This
is
fire
and
brimstone
Kill
you
with
fire
and
brimstone,
uh
This
is
fire
and
brimstone,
uh
I'm
a
Mercedes
man,
a
late
80's
man
I
guess
you
could
call
me
the
perennial
ladies
man
Got
some
really
rich
friends
and
they
all
really
like
me
cause
I
really
pitch
trims
Sometimes
when
I'm
bored
I
kick
it
with
dumb
folk
They
all
really
hate
me
like
rottening
egg
yolks
I
love
to
rub
it
in
because
I'm
not
a
proper
fit
for
your
world
of
bullshit
You
miserable
mutt
minds
flawed
by
design
You'll
never
have
the
temperament
to
experiment
with
the
benevolent
You're
irrelevant,
it
should
be
your
job
to
shovel
shit
You
need
to
cultivate
and
develop
it
Get
in
the
manure
business
and
Sell
a
bit
I'm
a
precious
stone,
wrapped
in
parchment
paper
Shootin'
meister
jager
A
dignitary,
you're
a
lowly
begger
Why
don't
you
pull
your
plug
you
stupid
nigga
If
you're
steering
wheel
is
not
wrapped
in
wood
then
you
don't
have
the
touch
So
you
will
never
feel
it
cause
you
denigrate
too
much
Who
are
you
to
judge,
who
are
you
to
critique,
who
are
you
to
falsify
my
presence
I
am
unique
so
you
can
keep
your
$20
you
ain't
gotta
buy
my
CD
Muthafucka
not
a
problem
That's
why
I'm
a
recluse,
not
the
one
you
set
loose
Muthafuckas
in
this
game
use
my
name
to
get
juice
Say
it,
David
Blake,
a
maven,
amazing
B-b-brighter
than
the
forest
when
it's
blazing
Asteroid,
past
the
void,
keep
it
pushing,
that
a
boy
Gotta
get
it
hotter
than
oven
cooking,
that's
a
joy
For
these
last
four
bars
I
take
it
easy
But
you
still
a
muthafucka
and
your
cheesy
Don't
trust
your
memory
Write
down
what
you
feel
about
me
If
yo
head
ain't
rocking
back
and
and
forth
then
doubt
me
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