Flushing Scotch - Seasons of Hell lyrics

[Intro] The motherf**in' plague bringer The motherf**in' plague bringer [Verse 1] I started sellin' clothes and coke around that Hot Topic With pockets full of sidewalk chalk, profits off these narcotics Givin' this dick to gothic chicks until I'm either exhausted Or I'm about to f**in' . . . oh my god, it's blow time I'm cummin' faster than the Supersonics down to OKC Droppin' loads in hoes faster than dogs dropped Homie G b**hes blowin' me to Jodeci I'm like, “let's bounce,” that b**h is like, “totally” I fertilize her ovaries In nine months, kid's my f**in' groceries Well pardon me If you're down for the cause, you best apostrophe (pause) Cause you got me travellin' back to the Fat of the Land Where I smack your b**h up just like Prodigy (f** you hoe) Fallin' in love then apart Tearin' the heart out of a b**h, Kano Off with the gloves, then I punch the b**h out of the car Tyson, K.O Trappin' her, fasten her onto the scaffoldin' Havin' her be my f**in' target practicin' Blast her with gallons of cum when I'm dabblin' In arts and crafts, magic happenin' after it's dark And after I park I'm harvestin' parts of her body And droppin' in for a quick swim like a hammerhead shark Then it's back to the start Look at me, look at me, look at me now Then I Snapchat that [Hook] Smash that, slap it with a motherf**in' hashtag Trash bag, snatch her gash, and throw it in my backpack Throwback to Prozac, I'm stashin' cash from Great Depression Yeah, I stole that, fifty grand from your damn pension plan Gettin' Kodak, picture perfect plan, I got the upper hand Roadhouse, you know that, tear your f**in' throat out Cognac, I pout that, shootin' down your old a** Go back, so that's every song I recorded Or tracks that I thought to be somewhat important I'm f**ing k**in' it This track just got aborted [Verse 2] Thin is in, so you know that Flushing be here whippin' ‘em Gettin' ‘em into dresses that their fat a**es ain't fittin' in It's f**in' sickenin' Stickin' my dick in a**istin' in Gettin' these b**hes to throw up Makin' her cough up my kid so he can't grow up (b**h) Better watch your eyes b**h's ribs be pokin' ‘em out Lookin' like it's Jesus Christ Who's f**in' showin' up now I'm f**in' chokin' him out And then I'm throwin' him down And I'm pullin' out nine-inch switchblades to help his hands hold him out Then I'm sendin' planes to the places that you trade in, it's goin' down SCOTCH [Hook] Smash that, slap it with a motherf**in' hashtag Trash bag, snatch her gash, and throw it in my backpack Throwback to Prozac, I'm stashin' cash from Great Depression Yeah, I stole that, fifty grand from your damn pension plan Gettin' Kodak, picture perfect plan, I got the upper hand Roadhouse, you know that, tear your f**in' throat out Cognac, I pout that, shootin' down your old a** Go back, so that's every song I recorded So glad that one day this sh** will all be over Thank you, and I'm sorry . . . f** Scotch [Bridge] Everythin' is fine, we're all gonna die Everythin' is fine, we're all gonna die Everythin' is fine, we're all gonna die Everythin' is fine, we're all gonna die Everythin' is fine, we're all gonna die (so f** it) Everythin' is fine, we're all gonna die (so f** it) Everythin' is fine, we're all gonna die (so f** it) Everythin' is fine, we're all gonna die [Breakdown] Everythin' is fine, we're all gonna die Everythin' is fine, we're all gonna die Everythin' is fine, we're all gonna die Everythin' is . .