Mike Beatz - Pigs lyrics
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 b**h mine.. Like, "Hi Vince Spit another rhyme!" Mouth is so f**in dry I'm gettin scary on the mic, b**h! So.. Imma hitta 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 b*tch I'm on.. I'm Talkin bout the game I'm higher then the everglades This brain up in my cranium Is runnin at a faster pace.. Woah! Dre beats on the dome! No strap back? Woah.. No endorsement cause The people say I rap wack? Oh.. Self printed CD's In the backpack hoe It's Baghdad.. Grabba towl, n blow a load.. Like groupie love Like f** a glove I'll do her, raw..dawg.. Spin her like a carousel Bbounce her like a see..saw! ..This sh** is double dutch.. Chica witta bubble bu*t Went to grab a double cup Hit it twice... double f** Opposite of piss No sh**s, give a double f** Whoo? Not one Not two, f** you f** her, not him Even me Wait..? Breathe, f** it though.. Now we don't need no oxygen! I suffocate my documents No motha f**in consequence So f** it then, you like me chick! Whip out my dick, piss in the wind..! ..But only if she s** it though.. N I'm the one who spose to spit N 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 N you say I ain't a human? Well, I am a mutant.. I had a dream you'll never do it, Outta body, kinda lucid Yousa whack YOU a hoe HE can't rap N all you goddamn f*ggots Lookin pretty f**in' stupid, though. Now look.. I got this sh** beat Til a piggie flap wing Vinny whoo? It's Vinny ME.. Gettin high, got all green.. Smokin' on that OG N Trainwreck N then the sour D You smell the cheese homie? Better go grab the Listerine! Wait.. hol up..hol up IT'S THE fu*kIN FUTURE HOE.. New flows really dopey though Now you f*ggots know I'm gettin hard You know Pinocchio I blow my nose, subliminal An ill, contagious criminal Got cold n frozen metaphors Like frostbite on my syllables! Wait..hol up, hol up.. This my sh** n imma go N spit it my way.. Lungs Rebecca black I'm talkin sideways.. Smoked up all the gas Can't even get up out my driveway Ill make ya woman 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 b**h mine.. Like, "Hi Vince Spit another rhyme!" Mouth is so f**in dry I'm gettin scary on the mic, b**h!)