Hot Crib Promo Pt2 lyrics

[Verse 1: Cage]
Just a little f*cking taste, you know what I’m saying
Off this sh*t check me out, you know what I’m saying
It’s like - I got half a seed to eat
My mind is kind of morbid, as a kid was forbid
To keep worshipping this, so I got more vicious than he did
Eyes on you, true, I never lacked the guts
Before the hair on my nuts, I smoked up Newports to the butts
In case you haven’t noticed, your mom’s could f*cking blow this
I’m barely in reality, splattered I’m out of atomy
Made with bloody puppy dog tails, I’m seeing trails
And there’s f*cking dead on she-males, I dig a prop with all nails
Hey Lucy in the Sky, took a diamond, broke the hymen
On his, [?] gave it a half-a-push, then blood gushed
Seriously damaged, my thoughts, [?]
Caught my mom’s around the block to let her know I f*cking hate her
Sprayed a hippie fag, like a, [?]
I’m never out of buddha sack, or track backed with P. Funk
My eyes, never f*cking quiver when I sliver
Turn North Street to my goddamn, bloody river
Give a slash, when its cashed, hit the whore place
Don’t buck him through his jacket 'cuz I just might fit that North Face
Periodically, I find's myself into sodomy
Need's a lobotomy, got's no bottom gee
May kill as I laugh's through f*cking thrillers
Hit the tab spot, grab a sheet and put it on my fillings
The, fist f*cker lick the gravy off your knuckles
Sucking out your bloody puss' more flavors than chuckles
God f*cking father Don, get the f*ck on
And let these motherf*ckers know we rip them on to five in the morn’
[Verse 2: Godfather Don]
Check it, check check, check, check it n*gga
Check check, hey check, ahem-check it n*gga
This a bigger, me bigger, see it’s a n*gga
He hits about a hundred motherf*cker-suckers wait, a real jigga
Get a holl-ooow-oooh, who’s legit
When you and your friends bite loops that are sent, Bobbito you dig it son
I’m a higher pinnacle like a rabbinical student
Who’s moving through, verses and scriptures
Cursing to rip you, with turns in the mixture, [?]
You’re seeking to die punk
A lyrical articulatory, even my stories are glory, let’s get gory, I’m sorry I’m odd-ly
I blow like dust, your mouth burn to particles, [?]
Pardon you, trying to break through like Jim Morrison
It’s sin and horror some when, skills fall my tongue
Among's another one for hung a cerebum
Flinging dungarees one of me’ll smoke eternities, we
Ask Willy Wonka, Tonka, I’m a disintegrate
Your style, your style, your style
While your isle smiles at me
With piles that be, u.t.t.e.r
G. sparks the mic like a retard
Now it’s like that, with a fat sack yo
Cage, spark the sh*t in the back, yeah
Chillin, chillin, yeah, Stretch on the track