Blow Me

A bottle of jack's got my manager grinnin'

Yeah that's me that keeps the turntables spinnin'

I'm countin cards and i keep on winnin'

I know god hates me cuz i'm always sinnin'

U don't know me blow me ho you wanna get hot

You'll get your ass blown out fuckin with the kid rock

Eatin up ya suckers just the same way a beast could

Tearin thru your town like muther fuckin clint eastwood

Cuz i be fakin the rhymes that keep ya shakin'

Makin a lotta money but don't let me be mistaken

I never thought about climbin up the pop chart

And i don't give a fuck u can't buy my tape in k-mart

Give me a choice between soundin like an ass wipe

Or sittin in an alley smokin crack from a glass pipe

I'd be as skinny as a junkie with the aids plague

But still i'd look better than a puppet tryin to get paid

Now check the rhyme as i climb and i co get rude

And send ya runnin' playin' pussy like shaggy and scoob

Cuz i'm the wrong dude to fuck with my mouth is mental

And i'm a tear shit up like they did in south central

Son of a bitch i'm the son of a bitch

Nobody ever loved u so you're the son of a dick

I'm a product of a young girl top in her class

You're a product of a hooker who was sellin that ass

And your styles in the past it's old and dusty

So from now on i'm callin u m.c. crusty

Cuz to face me u must be blitzed or blasted

So now i'm gonna drop ya like a hit of acid

And when i rip ya people they might stare

Cuz i got more rhymes than donahue's got white hair

An yo buck won't you please be a friend

And tell your mom i wanna fuck and i'll pick her up at 10




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