lirik lagu skitzofreniks - charlie's angels
eddie bones presents…
the adventures of charlie bawles
you heard about charlie’s angles?
they keep broads hooked on the c-ck like prince
alberts
[charlie bawles]
well it’s chuck,
the first man that your girl couldn’t deep throat
so i f-cked her mouth til her two front teeth broke
flipped the b-tch like cheap c-ke
left the sheets soaked, gave the meat stroke
til the hoe’s -ss cheeks smoked
freaks know the stee
before they even rolled with me
i shift ovaries, send ’em home with torn hosiery
used to f-ck to jodeci, now it’s to my own cd
i tell the b-tch “i’m on my own sh-t”,
stop holdin’ me
and tell me how this nut tastes
bust in the sl-ts face, leave ’em mud,
laced like a hostess cupcake
no matter, what race you can still be in my sm-t tape
but f-ck fake b-tches that whine like crushed grapes
come take the fat, long thing with the c-ck ring
checkmark knocks the box til the tw-t stings
broads cling.
i’ll knock the matress off your box spring
rip your bra string and spill beer in your offspring
they try to block things, i don’t like that
keep the tights back,
or i’m a throw ’em in the closet like mic jacks
i might, smack your kids while i’m grabbin your t-ts
strappin your wrist to the headboard,
and stabbin your ribs. with the long d-ck
of this p-rnographic b-st-rd
workin the bed til i get paid by my matress
don’t laugh b-tch. there ain’t no jokin here
i’ll f-ck ya til your downstairs,
neighbor smokes a square
poke your rear with my thumb to test
if you ever used your b-m for s-x
ain’t no ease, thumbs the rest
i’m the best rapper that be slingin his nuts
plus i turn a b-tch that’s never been touched,
into a p-rno sl-t
[charlie bawles]
i’m lookin for sl-ts
eighteen and up from b to d cups
f-ck me chuck til i bust and clean it up
she seen enough sm-t to make sound decisions
to lift up the b-tt or stay down in submission
i pound with presicion. every dames a d. p
my team’ll kill beavers til they endagered species
spankin fee fees. til the chick’s sh-ts achin
cl-t skin’s chafin. miss to tris nathan
b-tch quit fakin.
we know how your story goes.
naughty hoes, double stuffed like oreos
corny bros try to bite my moves,
there’ll be none of that
i got patents on the cambridge crab
and the thunderclap
run laps around the cat. master of d-ck and dash
swift macks spittin gash. shaft in your chickens -ss
hit the back last on your hooters and grill
i could chill or score fast in the two minute drill
charlie been done, provin his skills
using the dills.
hula hoop a groupie for a brew and two bills
my maneuvers are ill.
broads kill for the throbbin d-ck
not mysogenist. before i f-ck, i m-ssage a b-tch
got a lot of flicks. how to, for all you novices
you wannabe skitz,
can cop a charlie bawles starter kit
let the hottest chicks turn actress for practice
i mash half stiff, ron jeremy of this rap sh-t
match wits with the finest
nevermind the rest baby time to s-x
so grind til your behind is wet
i’m the best rapper that be swingin his nuts
and plus i turn a b-tch that’s never been touched, into a p-rno sl-t
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