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lirik lagu jarren benton - razor blades & steak knives (feat. hemi)

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yeah, razor blades and steak knives
i’ve been tweaking off of this meth, been up for eight nights
my producer is asian so he ate rice
and practice kung fu and meditate in the daylight
you a b-tch, you probably picket for gay rights
i crack your f-cking jaw with a spinning kick in a cage fight
so negative, give a f-ck what ye like
y’all a bunch of wussies, a bushy p-ss of a crazed dyk-
i’m nervous; drink is stopping the stage fright
the burn in my d-ck when i p-ss feels like a snakebite
my wife says she sick of my behavior
you f-ggots stop comparing me to tyler, the creator
i’ve been on this sh-t before you was allowed in the theater
for an r-rated movie and your dad was wearing gators
and your mom was just a wh-r- before your sister wore makeup
you was just a little b-tch before you morphed into a hater
“jarren you’re so provocative,”
“do you have anything to say that’s sort of positive?”
yup: suck a d-ck, suck a d-ck, suck a d-ck
and by the way – suck a d-ck
you don’t like it and eat sh-t then slit your wrists
and jump off a roof and land in a pool of syphilis
uh, it’s like my heart stopped carin’
ever since i signed with hopsin everybody hates jarren, b-tch!

you probably think i’m crazy
and that may be a little bit true
so you can think i’m crazy,
but maybe i’m just different than you
la, la, la, la, la, la, la (crazy) la la, la la, la.

yeah, needles, dope and opiates
who gives a f-ck if i talk about drugs? get over it
male chauvinist, hit a girl with a bowl of grits
and shove her f-cking face in a bowl of sh-t; so inappropriate
i’m the creepy custodian
i stick a mop in your -ss without no petroleum – jelly
and it’s right back to sweeping linoleum
napoleon, i vote for pedro at the podium
i sip vodka, rip propellers off of helicopters
heavy hand’ll slap your girlfriend’s t-ts off her
i’m awkward as quadriplegic kickboxers
i’ll kill you and drop your body in nicaragua
i’ll punch a hole in the asphalt
go eat a f-cking d-ck like a f-ggot on bath salt
you mad soft, if i’m a pr-ck then it’s my dad’s fault
i throw a dead cat on your porch and dash off
i’m weird, i’ll murder your rap career
and super glue my p-b-s to my face to make a beard
give me a couple beers and a power tool from sears
i’ll give your -ss a nice shape-up without shears
now if you think you’re f-cking with me then go think again
i’m ill enough to break in your house and murder your pen
one sick b-st-rd, mushrooms and acid
kill ’em then i go and help they momma pick the casket

now i ain’t come here to hurt n-body
why hate b-tch? show your boy love (yeah),
now where the hoes with the low self-esteem?
point ’em out cause they easy to f-ck
now if they hating, f-ck ’em, guns, brrr-uck ’em,
drugs, love ’em, girls, f-ck ’em,
d-boys, d-boys, all my n-gg-s
going f-cking full tart off of schlitz malt liquor!

la, la, la, la, la, la, la (crazy) la la, la la, la


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