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lirik lagu vinny bee - pigs

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they said that imma make it when the pigs fly..
but the people just a mess, frickin pigs sty..
they cannot even fathom what’s in this mind, so! imma twist the game
n make this b-tch mine.. like, “hi vince
spit another rhyme!”
mouth is so f-ckin dry
i’m gettin scary on the mic, b-tch! so..
imma hitta high pitch..
but before i do that
someone go n grab
my cherry chap­stick
this is my own
i’ll rap exactly what i think about! i’m so gone
i should prolly not be thinkin now! so, like b-tch i’m on..
i’m talkin bout the game
i’m higher then the everglades this brain up in my cranium
is runnin at a faster pace..
woah!
dre beats on the dome!
no strap back?
woah..
no endorsement cause
the people say i rap wack?
oh..
self printed cd’s
in the backpack hoe
it’s baghdad..
grabba towl, n blow a load.. like groupie love
like f-ck a glove
i’ll do her, raw..dawg..
spin her like a carousel
b­bounce her like a see..saw! ..this shit is double dutch..
chica witta bubble b-tt
went to grab a double cup
hit it twice… double f-ck
opposite of p-ss
no shits, give a double f-ck
whoo?
not one
not two, f-ck you
f-ck her, not him
even me
wait..?
breathe, f-ck it though..
now we don’t need no oxygen!
i suffocate my doc-ments
no motha f-ckin consequence
so f-ck it then, you like me chick! whip out my d-ck, p-ss in the wind..! ..but only if she suck it though..
n i’m the one who spose to spit
n your jobs let it down ya throat.. now what’s the constitution?
like i got my first communion.. except it’s rolled with endo
faded, at the last reunion
n you say i ain’t a human?
well, i am a mutant..
i had a dream you’ll never do it, outta body, kinda lucid
yousa whack
you a hoe
he can’t rap
n all you godd-mn f-ggots
lookin pretty f-ckin’ stupid, though. now look..
i got this shit beat
til a piggie flap wing
vinny whoo?
it’s vinny me..
gettin high, got all green..
smokin’ on that og
n trainwreck
n then the sour d
you smell the cheese homie? better go grab the listerine!
wait.. hol up..hol up
it’s the f-ckin future hoe.. new flows really dopey though now you f-ggots know
i’m gettin hard
you know pinocchio
i blow my nose, subliminal
an ill, contagious criminal
got cold n frozen metaphors
like frostbite on my syllables! wait..hol up, hol up..
this my shit n imma go
n spit it my way..
lungs rebecca black
i’m talkin sideways..
smoked up all the gas
can’t even get up out my driveway ill make ya woman wet
just like the sky grey
so hate when i precipitate
then rain up on the g-y parade so what is my name?
it’s vinny whoo…..
(they said that imma make it when the pigs fly..
but the people just a mess, frickin pigs sty..
they cannot even fathom what’s in this mind, so! imma twist the game
n make this b-tch mine.. like, “hi vince
spit another rhyme!” mouth is so f-ckin dry
i’m gettin scary on the mic, b-tch!)


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