Testo Pigs - Vinny Bee
Testo della canzone Pigs (Vinny Bee), tratta dall'album Pigs
They said that Imma make it when the pigs fly
But the people just a mess, frickin pigs sty
They cannot even fathom what's in this mind, So!
Imma twist the game, make this bitch mine
Like, "Hi Vince, spit another rhyme
Mouth is so fuckin dry
I'm gettin scary on the mic, bitch
So... imma hit my high pitch
But before I do that
Someone go n grab my cherry chapstick
This is my own, I'll rap exactly what I think about
I'm so gone, I should prolly not be thinkin now
So, like bitch I'm on
I'm Talkin bout the game
I'm higher than the everglades
This brain up in the cranium
Is runnin at a faster pace, woah
Dre beats on the dome
No snap back, woah
No endorsement cause the people say I rap wack, Oh
Self printed CD's in the backpack hoe
It's Baghdad, grab a towel, now blow a load
Like groupie love, like fuck a glove, I'll do her raw dog
Spin her like a carousel, bounce her like a see saw
This shit is double dutch, chica with a bubble butt
Went to grab a double cup, hit it twice... double fuck
Opposite of piss, no shit
Give a double fuck, whoo
Not one, not two, fuck her
Fuck him, not you, even me, wait
Breathe, fuck it though, now we don't need no oxygen
I suffocate my documents, no motha fuckin consequence
So fuck it then, you like me chick
Whip out my dick, piss in the wind
But only if she suck it though
And I'm the one who suppose to spit
And your jobs let it down ya throat
Now, what's the constitution, like I got my first communion
Except it's rolled with endo, faded, at the Last Reunion
And you say I ain't a human, well. I am a mutant
I had a dream you'll never do it, out of body, kinda lucid
You a whack, you a hoe, he can't rap
And all you god damn faggots
Lookin pretty fuckin stupid though, now look
I got this shit beat, til a piggie flap a wing
Vinny Whoo, it's Vinny Me
Gettin high got all green
Smokin on that OG, and trainwreck, and then the Sour D
You smell that cheese homie? Better go and grab the Listerine
Wait, hold up, hold up
It's the fuckin future hoe
New flows really dopey though
Now you faggots know I'm gettin hard, you know Pinocchio
I blow my nose, subliminal
An ill, contagious criminal
Got cold and frozen metaphors
Like frostbite on my syllables
Wait, hold up, hold up
This my shit and I'mma go and spit it my way
Lungs Rebecca Black, I'm talkin sideways
Smoked up all the gas, can't even get up out the driveway
I'll make ya women wet just like the sky grey
So hate when I precipitate, then rain up on the gay parade
So what is my name? It's Vinny Whoo
(They said that Imma make it when the pigs fly
But the people just a mess, frickin pigs sty
They cannot even fathom what's in this mind, so! Imma twist the game
N make this bitch mine. Like, "Hi Vince
Spit another rhyme!" Mouth is so fuckin dry
I'm gettin scary on the mic, bitch
Credits
Writer(s): Vincent Arthur Bohn
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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