Lyrics
So whenI was just a little baby boy my
momma used to tell me these crazy
things... She used to tell me he kated me...
But then I got a little bit older and I realized
she was the crazy one... But there was
nothing I could do or say to try to change it
Because that's just the way she was They said I can't rap about being broke no more
They ain't say I can't rap about coke no more
Slut, you think I won't choke no whore
'Til the vocal cords don't work in her throat no more?
These What Hell are thinkin' I'm playin'
Thinkin' I'm sayin' the see 'cause I'm thinkin' it just to
be sayin' it
Put your hands down, rich, I ain't gon' shoot you
I'ma pull you to this bullet and put it through you Shut up, slut! You're causin' too much chaosJust bend over and take it like a slut, okay, Ma? "Oh, now he's raping his own mother Abusing a
whore, snorting
coke
And we gave
him the Rolling
Stone cover?"
You're
goddamn right,
rich, and now
it's too late
I'm triple
platinum and
tragedies
happened in
two states
I invented
violence, you
vile venomous
volatile vicious
Vain Vicodin,
vrin vrin vrin!
Texas
Chainsaw, left
his brains all
Danglin' from
his neck while
his head barely
hangs on
Blood, guts,
guns, cuts
Knives, lives,
wives, nuns,
sluts rich, I'ma skill you! I said you don't you know always with Kouame ('Cause
why?)
'Cause Kouame you always skill you (Ha-ha)
I said you don't you know always with Kouame (Cause
why?)
'Cause Kouame you always skill you
You don't wanna mess with me
Girls neither, you ain't nothin' but a slut to me
rich, I'ma skill you! You ain't got the balls to beef
We ain't gon' never stop beefin', I don't squash the beef
You better skill me, I'ma be another rapper dead
For poppin' off at the mouth with rich I shouldn't have
said
But when they skill me, I'm bringin' the world with me
rich too, you ain't nothin' but a girl to me
Rich, I'ma skill you! Like a murder weapon, I'ma conceal you
In a closet with mildew, sheets, pillows and film you
Always, I been through Hell, shut the hell up
I'm tryna develop these pictures of the Devil to sell 'em
I ain't "acid rap," but I rap on acid
Got a new blow-up doll and just had a strap-on added
Whoops! Is that a subliminal hint?
No, just criminal intent to sodomize women again
Warren offend? No, Warren'll insult
And if you ever give in to him you give him an impulse
To do it again, then if he does it again
You'll probably end up jumpin' out of somethin' up on the
tenth Rich, I'ma skill you! I ain't done, this ain't the chorus
I ain't even drop you in the woods yet to paint the forest
A bloodstain is orange after you wash it
Three or four times in a tub, but that's normal — ain't it,
Norman?
Serial skiller hiding murder material
In a cereal box on top of your stereo
Here we go again, we're out of our medicine
Out of our minds and we want in yours: let us in rich, I'ma skill you!
You don't wanna mess with me
Girls neither, you ain't nothin' but a slut to me
rich, I'ma skill
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