Cryptic Wisdom - Sell Out lyrics

Yo, I'm a swagger jacker plane crasher that hate rappers I'll take ba*tard and wipe my a** with your face after The master of ceremonies, you'll fade faster Than kony, phony Facebook f*ggots will race past ya I never asked what Houston had happen We're relaxing in the bathroom relapsing on the crack again [Houston We have a problem] When I say I'm in the lab I'm in I'm actually snorting lines off of Whitney's abdomen This ain't a holy world at all The devil called, he told me to throw this in a psalm I told him I was jacking off with lotion in my palms Oprah's on, call me back, Satan's spawn turns me on! The specialty rape recipe Is feed her steak and ecstasy to leave her naked next to me Tape her to the bed to see me tape her give free head to me And gape her s**y neck and she can play Russian roulette with me And Chris Webby, get off of my Pandora Station You bore the nation, I'm praying you're at my door and waiting You lord forsaken, kick your a** for insubordination This is a personal beef, this dis is more then hating Ain't f**ing playing, this CW is your replacement You're pasty race, I'm beaner faced, there ain't no more relation You can't rob my monogram with fake pistols Mr. Getaway driver, get away from my initials! Federal officials in Vegas Rake in the bacon Raising the stakes in this state ain't the only rape in the an*s Secret agent vacations in places making Colombian waitresses shake it with fake tits and ain't paying sh** All I'm saying is authorities are who*es to me I'd f** Tipper Gore and beat that p**y up gloriously Bust in her, tip her horribly, court orders me to sport a fee I told her I would cordially abort for free... Orally I didn't plan parenthood and Arizona wouldn't found it for me At planned Parenthood, they just ignored me, Whats the story? The governor decreed enough aborting "What!?" But the s*uts are horny, and mad as f** cause they use rubbers poorly Back rubbers surely didn't expect A greased up John Travolta and his feminine pecks Offering to bring the thunder, rub their head and their necks Give them the best gay s** before they head to the press I suggest all of you follow the leader in Hollywood And jump off of the nearest bridge, I believe it - you probably should And you probably would dare to go in the air bearing a bomb In a pair of underwear to scare American moms Cause you'll blow up anything if your bros says that it goes hard Show a slow flow, runny nose, your plays go far No box of Kleenex but 400 Gee-tars I'd pay for Krispy Kreme next to collab with a retard? This isn't me, yes, but this is what you drove me to Boke a fuse, no more to lose, having trouble coping though I feel like I could choke a dude, I'm dope as f** and don't get viewed Don't get trhough, no review, people only notice you If told that's what they're supposed to do, only heard of you If you are what they're hearded to, I'm counting sheep and seeing clones accrue While you were sleeping I was reaping what I sowed and grew Beneath the tree in Eden feeding Eve the holy wisdom fruit f** you!