Funkoars - Blackout lyrics

[Verse 1: Sesta] Yo I'm suppose to be humble? Ya kidding They still tryna come onto women, I just finished coming in 'em Picturing 'em in their full flat Mall rats enough goths, s*uts coughed up what I poured down It's your round, never mine and it stays that way Until the day I fell in line like Jay Mc Clay ay Take the bait and I take ya name instead of a couch Tom Cruise the bit of ya mouth now I think it's evident now the evidence out Settling downs outta the question And how many thousand crew throw towels in to Show their click, f** showmanship, I done showed their sh** Show the dick til the girl gets to come out then She get the f** out! Till we run out of drinks I skull this one Thinking out the box with my finger stuck in one! Come f** around, f** it I come around Hit ya girl in the back while your son around She's busy, run to the liqour shop and get a bottle Kiddies love it, he's a role model Low morals, beer goggles, thick as a brick But I'm never double dipping the dick in the b**h f**, I turn 'em vegeterian, the drunk pallbearer Holding wood tryna bury ya I give 'em clout, spread the rumour Getting kicked outta clubs rocking second hand Pumas Who got the illest sport the name OARS Encores they feel it boy more than they feeling chainsaws We came, we saw, we fade 'em all, we did it You prayed we'd fall, we didn't - huh ya kidding? Walking in and we k**ing the vibe You better hide the dinner knifes 'cause I might... BLACKOUT! [Chorus] Blackout, yeah, better clean the gutter 'cause I'm gunna gunna Blackout, blackout, try come f** around with the OARS That sh**'s lunacy, ay Trials take a sh** on these G.I. Joe mother f**ers [Verse 2: Trials] Yeah that's Sesta raise a f**ing toast for my man We on the prowl for a piece of p**y with pokey tan I'm talking takeover, time's up See they struggling for styles when they hardly rhyme half the time Real sh** real hard to find Oars play point-guard like Bali 9 They gotta stop it, another day at the office And their name hold weightless that's why these mother f**ers drop it under I'm the prophet that turns wine to vomit from my wallet with cob webs on it If you sick of it, stop it Listen to Common if you want some nice rap If you like that you probably got my sh** and took it right back Hilltop and Oars - That's the truth Weapon X and Ken Hell - That's the booth The sh**'s fake Major-label budget away from a piss tap Best take the piss away before I... BLACKOUT! [Verse 3: Sesta] You ain't f**ing with Ses Ask Pegz, you're harmless The last pick a target Gin start the b**h palming star at a bargain bound buying rugs the answer(?) Body snatcher digging her out A hundred motherf**ers is chillin' me out, what the f** Raise the terror level with every sip So I get a better devil every drink, everything Better than it's ever been Pink shirts and pop collered co*k s**ers Stop getting props without a top dollar Rock bottom I've got 'em, I'm Lex in Gotham You in the wrong city to stop him Drop it, back in it raw Packing the floor, stacking the door That's what I rap for I tag hoars with an S on they chest Far from super, duper, f**ers in the stoop for saying... BLACKOUT! [Chorus] {with scratching variation 'til fade}