Blow Lyrics

If this was a game

I already know that I would come out winner

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 listen 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 door hinge 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 mothafuckin' 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

If this was a game

I would be considered a mothafuckin' 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

Trying to find ways to really stuff you in my cabinet

Dreamy little bastard

I done ran outta luck 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 down stairs,

I took a nap up on the couch

If you wanted a date, don't come

Now you gotta make it easy for me, 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 in my basement

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

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

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