Афонина Татьяна фотограф Москва
410 3 часа назад

Текст песни Sage Francis - Whore Monger

Sage Francis - Whore Monger слова песни

(verse)my popularitys on the ri-ise.my self-image is somewhatsinkingmy heads expanding in size but my stomachs shrinkingit all evens out in the end thats what I`m thinkingsing the cashregister raps ch-ching ching.green backs bring the bling blingna na I may stay home.rev got the ring ring ha ha hey hey poemwhile my answering machine screening calls.hailing safe and aloneI want change in your message not the coin return of a payphonemy boys are concerned that my brains blownvoices get turned away annoyed with what they sayif its a gay tone n they like "hey ho!" then I`m all like "hey yo..."few remain prone to spray straight shots with blood stained glocksn a face of stone to melt your ice grill it might spill! n break ya Bone. Thugs-in-Harmony cd presenting tape should ownreplace the thrown with some Non-Prophets drop bass ONSage is know to pull your card kid so chillI mess up plans like robbers with no skillmy only knowledge is the holy father SO THRILLEDthat you dont know still what God is making martyrs outta molehillsnow if your soul is fufilled holed your dillsn realize youre never satisfied til after u die from overkillim from Placiboville but we know the drillobscene is so ill but wait for the nurse to leave so I can throw the pill..I AM NOT SICK! demeneted or listed as twisted bitch whats up with this kidsome insisted that I`m interested in running from the facts whisperedin a mating call that get a busy signal from a number thats unlistedlumberjacks are gifted.when I swung the axe it slidout of my grasp n injured this invalid, invalidToss-offs toss their cookies while tossing saladsI ghost-write the most hype love sonnet n let some whore sing the ballad(hook)IMA WHORE...A WHORE MONGER! with a platinum voiceIMA WHORE...A WHORE MONGER! cuz I havent a choiceservin up this cuz (S!) echo-freaks need to eat(verse)excrament aint flauntin rose peddalsI breed hard rocks to impregnate stones to grow pebblesI throw kettles at pan-handlers n pot-smokerssell insest to sexually repressed stockbrokersI turn impetant pimps to sex slavesmanifest them with radio activity from x-raysI bootleg their skeletons the next dayson u can sense my dark mood once the sky gets graylittle kids r like "lets play!haha." not right thentell them to act like men then i`ll fight themlet em hit me first then be like "strike again!"then its my turn to see how far the limbs of little tykes bendI tied em up, with burlap rope. "word?thats dope."manhandled the girl that lacked hope n her back brokeshe prefered crack cocain. the heroin needed heroin never againladies n gentlelele gentlelele gentlelele..im from a species of zsars through the deep seas n starseverything I do is important so I save my feces in jarsn what I eat seems bizarr I deep-freeze n thawemcees who aint down by the gravities of lawnow these anologies aint rawbut when u secretly serve this well-done yall then become casualties of warjust call me Francis Allah n I was flatteredcuz I ghost-wrote the most dope love sonnet let dumb harlet sung the ballad(hook)...and I havent a choice n if ya snatches aint moist just sing-a-long c`monla la laaaaa. la la la laaaa la la la la lala la laaaaa. la la la la la la lala la la.

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