Budd Dwyer - Rotten $oul$ lyrics

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Budd Dwyer - Rotten $oul$ lyrics

[Verse 1: Lil OOZING] b**h I got my Glock co*ked, when you hear that knock knock knock d**h at the door, telling you it's time to close shop So you drop to your knees, begging please to stop But he's not, it's inevitable Leave you dead on the floor b**h I got that mother f**ing dead president flow More Benjamins, hoe Yeah, I'll go to your show because attendance is low Matter fact, f** that Bring a backpack full of crack wrapped in dynamite Hand it out that Friday night Sure enough, got you fans hooked Only way you were going to blow up, mother f**er I'm G five nine signed Crime don't pay but I will pay for the crime Got the Devil on my side Yeah, we kick it all the time I'm the one who told him that God was a b**h f** him, let's ride Grab that cross and flip it around Drive into town like whatsup? We down [Verse 2: Trap House $crim] I'm pissing on crosses in churches Chrome to your dome and I murk ya Twenty deep when we ride that excursion I'm itching for d**h and I'm lurking Life full of sin Chalk on cement Momma be begging don't do d** again Murder something, hurst full of friends Snatching up purses and kicking doors in 187, gripping Mac-11 You wanna find out if all dogs go to heaven? Gold on my chain, d** in my brain I'm slicing my wrist with the mental deranged Scrimmy insane Dope got me numb West Bank sewers is where I crawled out from Smoke in my lungs, I'm about to black out Got a bottle full of roofies that I'm about to pa** out Coke I be sniffing Lean I be sipping Trying to O.D. cuz that's always my mission Drug fueled demon, got to stay stoned Walk up in hell, like, "Hey Honey, I'm home!"