LYRICS GAME

M, M

Volume three

Hey, hey, hey

I scrape my d*ck raw

You're weak, I'm notifying you

I get on stage and pontificate

I smoke waiting for the wire

Yeah, they'd want me dead and buried, I don't blame 'em

I watch this poor dumb crowd from up on the scaffold

From up here everything's magnificent

They don't hurt me at all

I'm thirty, look twenty

'Cause I died when I was little

That's why I'm better than the others

'Cause I don't give a f*ck what they say

That's why I'm riding an Audi now

They're on some jalopy

They won't go even if they push 'em

Pinky against the corner

Venomous, evil flow, Lucignolo

I roll with 2P and Lucifer

I speak roughly two languages, bro

Plus a couple native dialects

I'm the biggest terrone of them all

Of literally everybody, bro, Cannavacciuolo Lo Cicero

Holy Father on the spaceship

Four brothers with me, bro, conclave

I write a manifesto, can't recall the text

But 'maybe die now' is a key line

I suffered and evolved

I'm Kevin Wendell Crumb, a crazy dog

All you can do is brush me

I'll kidnap you and play God in a farmhouse

'Cause you're just lost causes

I'll kill you at random

I'll break your *ss with love, baby

See, this is my crime of passion

You're pussies, crawling around

These ain't rhymes, they're bricks

Did you try rap?

I built a career, you just got hurt

I drop a new record

And each time that one vanishes

You know how much I care

I'm Jordan coming back with the 45

The bass pumps harder than your wh*re

Feel how hard this stuff hits

I saw your new video

Well, sorry, but to me it's just cringe

I heard the record too

Bro, what do you want me to say?

Maybe I'm the one who doesn't get it

Maybe 'cause I like p*ssy

You know, nobody ever lent me a hand

They just kept telling me

That I'd never go far

A few gold records later I can state

That in the end you can only keep s*cking me off slowly

Raised without God, no light on the way

The only thing I believe is that

Trying to f*ck with me is madness

You can't think you'll stop the devil

With a theology professor

It's like putting my chronic depression

Together with your cherophobia

I scrape my d*ck raw

I scrape my d*ck raw

I scrape my d*ck raw

I smoke waiting for the wire

Pinky against the corner