lirik lagu iceberg slim (author) - the fall (part 2)
man, i had me a money~making hoe
like a s~x machine, she would walk between raindrops, snow and hail
and stand on hot bricks to lure the tricks come cyclone, lizard or [?]
she’d tricked with frenchmen, torpedos and henchmen
to her, it was all the same
with j~ps and jews [?]
and greaps i cannot name
with ch~nks and greeks, with arab and freaks
she’d trick in the house of god
no son of a gun, with this hoe shum, who could pay to use his rod
the sun didn’t set when her c~nt wasn’t wet
and her pockets heavy with gold
and many a trick with a weak end d~ck got took for his entirе roll
now, i laid and played off the dough she madе
from the coast to old broadway
my game was strong ’cause my money was long
i made this business pay
but the trouble began when i ranked my hand
and stopped blowing and started to hit
“why, jim, you know i blew that dough faster than any one hoe could get”
then i blew my shack, my cadillac, my rug up off the floor
i sold my ice at a p~wn shop price and shot up all that dough
i stole from ‘ma, i swindled ‘pa, i sold my pedigree pup
upon my threads, sold my bed and shot my tedium
my woman cried and then it died when i went off with her mick
but i stayed in my role and stole and sold everything but the kitchen sink
now, my deadliest blow came when the hoe took sick and couldn’t gin
the chinaman spoke and it wasn’t a joke
i knew this was the end
she had bleeding piles and enflamed bile
for a month, she couldn’t pee
i was shocked to h~ll when her ovaries fell and things looked bad for me
but, believe me, friend, when [?] set in, the chinaman took his tone
her head was dead, her ass was [?], the lips of a c~nt was [?]
so down i fell to the depths of h~ll, before i put myself in a cross
as my habit gew tall, my money grew small
everything i had was lost
but, i wanted to be fair, and on the square i didn’t want to buck the saw
so i said “what the h~ll! since this b~tch ain’t well, i’ll get her wife in~law.”
i said “lay on there ’til you’re feeling fair and can get back in the street while i do my best to convalence and get back on my feet. there’s that cute little b~tch with a hoe~house itch that i could latch on to, and that red headed hoe who’s raring to go if the deal’s ok with you. there ain’t a b~tch in the game with your kind of name for kicking the mud you kick. so you lay on there ’til you’re feeling fair and we’ll see: can we make them cl!ck?”
now, a b~tch like this is a good man’s bless
she had everything it took
but she had one fault, when she was caught. the b~tch couldn’t lose the hook
“h~ll no!” she said. “i’ll see you dead before i’ll let you go!
the black couch of [?] will pick up your ass tomorrow if you step beyond that door
i blew my health in a bid for wealth, so you could play your bit. but you went hop~head and blew the bread
now, you’re talking that stable sh~t
i’m not going for no brush on no bum horse rush!
and i know that’s what you plan, talking all sl!ck, with all that bullsh~t, motherf~cker, you ain’t no man!
i am hip to the way you pimps try to play
and the [?] you drop on a [?]
but if this sh~t don’t cease, i’ll call the police and bury your ass in jail”
i packed my sh~t, firing to split, and this is what i said:
“if that’s the way you want to play, go make your own d~mn bread. b~tch! you ain’t no lame, you know the game, then call it cop and blow. you’ve had your run, now you’re done. i need me another hoe
i can’t cut no swag with no swayback nag who’s thoroughbred days have passed!”
i looked pretty d~mn silly, putting her crippled ass [?] on a track that’s much too fast
“i was gonna put you in charge of a trick house large and give you some girls to rule! but you spoke of h~ll and sending me to jail. b~tch! you must be a godd~mn fool! ’cause a b~tch can’t sh~t without her man’s good wit and one monkey don’t stop no show! why, an honour to, i’ll have me a slew of b~tches [?]. so, step aside ’cause i’m fitting the slide, i mean, get the f~ck off my back! ’cause my money is low and i need me a hoe who can run that speedy track”
while laying back in another hoe shack and about to make my [?]
i heard a thunder that the door shook under and wondered what the f~ck it could be
a roller walked in, on his face was a grin, mined with a deadly expression
he said: “if you’re bud, the pimping stud, all they want is a signed confession”
my woman stood there with a finger in the air
“that’s him!” she cried with [?]. “that’s the son of a b~tch, with a con man pitch who made a hoe out of me”
a crushing blow sent me to the blow. i sank in the black [?]
when i woke, my nose were broke and blood all over my clothes
i played it strong, but it wasn’t long before they took me to court
you should have seen the sh~t that b~tch had written in the books of the police report
which just goes to show that the strongest hoe can give in to that female simping
this b~tch was born with a female scorn that got me two counts of pimping
now, in jail, in a six by six cell, watching the sun rise in the east, as the mornings chill the jungle still
i think of that slungry beast
farewell to the night, to the neon lights
farewell to you one and all
and farewell to the game might still be the same
when i get down doing this fall
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