lirik lagu mad prophet (rapper) - my shooters use minivans
[verse 1: slothman]
sucking on the jolly rancher, yeah i got the flavor
do you wanna suck on it, now or later?
i came on your chest, in your mouth an hour later
my sh-t going through ya like a f-cking laser
came through stutin’ in a motherf-ckin’ blazer
coats on my d-ck (yuh) time to f-cking raise her
yeah yeah yeah, done flexing on your p-ssy p-ssy
your girlfriend got all gushy gushy
winking at her cause i’m f-cking pushy
video kim, like my name is kim k
after we go, i’m going oj
when you wake up, don’t forget your oj
if you snitch, i’ll block your airway
swervin’ down the broadway
shootin’ sh-t, lebron james
my d-ck your entree
now we crashing hudson bay
f-ck [?] yesterday, now we gonna fade away
p-ssy, p-ssy p-ssy ahh
yeah, i’m coming, stunting like a god
i, don’t, think, you, know, what, i wanna do yeah
[chorus: slumpsh-t]
dumb, dirty dumb
hit you with that red rum
lotta pain, lotta pain
don’t slide in them hammers aye
poppin’ pills and poppin’ rounds
shots flying you hit the ground
p-ssy little boy, who you think you talking to like
[verse 2: young profit]
young profit i be the first
my heart sweet like a starburst
my icing is on her cake
not kylie her sh-t ain’t fake
beat is hard, but cut the b-ss
please try to and keep my pace
while i nut up on her face (yuh yuh)
just spilled lean, i ain’t mean to (aye)
barbies on youtube, they gurus (aye)
just copped mew and mewtwo (aye)
steve bald now that’s blue’s clues (aye)
(yuh) hop in the chevy, i pull out the glock
f-ck all night, then suck on my c-ck
hit the quan, then hit the wop
that chevy roars, you hear the pop
(yuh yuh yuh)
smoke a blunt, at your mom’s house
f-ck on her, sleep on your couch
in your mom, kangaroo pouch
f-cked her twice, times 10, just lost count
(yuh yuh yuh)
i can spit fast, i can spit slow
spit on my d-ck, rubbin’ it low
ain’t over 6, got nothing to show
looking like mater, about to tow
young profit is how it goes
(yuh yuh)
eat that cake
on the lake
k!llin’ em wait
drop the top
slob my kn-b
wait, what?
slob my kn-b
gimme that top
my droptop, i’m out, young profit
young, young profit, slumpsh-t, slothman, young profit
you know how it goes man (yuh yuh)
[chorus: slumpsh-t]
dumb, dirty dumb
hit you with that red rum
lotta pain, lotta pain
don’t slide in them hammers aye
poppin’ pills and poppin’ rounds
shots flying you hit the ground
p-ssy little boy, who you think you talking to like
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