Hope I Don’t Get Sick-A-Dis lyrics

[Chorus]:
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[Verse 1]:
Devin not devil or no demon how uneven
Weed and cigars, brew in the seat of the car
Who can it be other than coffee brother D
I cut a sweet with my finger
Choke a b*tch with my di*k then walk up the stairs and hang her
Who can get they thang sucked while they boo boo?
I can, by a Chinese b*tch who just fixed the moo-goo-gai pan
I stay high, man, I guess that's why a motherf*cker smile
Feedin' these hoes di*k Fuddruckers style
A buck wild b*tch I like her
Other hoes might try to fight her
I be tip-toein through Texas
Even got b*tches in Vidor
Ask me do I know a ho named "so-and-so"
I might've ask her did I nut quick or was it one of them all nighters?
I like di*k lickers and ball biters
And honey dips who don't trip if I don't write her
I be kickin' it, stickin' this di*k off in these b*tches
It's gettin' ridiculous, I hope I don't get sick of this

[Chorus]:
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[Verse 2]:
I'm just flippin', ridin', slippin', slidin', and sh*t
Don't try this at home
'Cause see me be high in the b*tch
Phone ringin' man I got my choice of 2 hoes
Which one should I choose
sh*t you know how it goes
I choose both now we on the other side of town stylin
n*ggas mean muggin' but I'm still smilin'
'Cause one b*tch is playing with the other b*tches titty
Cat hangin' out I'm like ''here, kitty kitty''
Every city and state
Them hoes fix me a plate when I arrive
Then they open up they thighs
And I be amazed myself sometimes
How I can get my di*k raised with just one rhyme
I started off horny with a hobby
But no longer have to hub around the hotel lobby
I be kickin' it, stickin' this di*k off in these b*tches
It's gettin' ridiculous, I hope I don't get sick of this

[Chorus]:
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[Verse 3]:
Rumblin' and tumblin'
Why there's no need
I rather look at the fight
Sit back and roll me some weed
Me and my n*ggas we be lookin for hoes to conjure up
Catch em in a group we swoop and ask them do they wanna f*ck
And if they sleazy then its easy of course
But if they lady like we gotta control our voice
You know, our volume, our pitch, our tone
And if she still don't give you no pus*y
Tell the b*tch gone on
As the beat goes on the heat goes on
Lil' sweetie excuse the booze it belongs to me
I'm known to be pretty horny
f*ck you in the mornin'
While you yawnin' you'll feel this di*k goin' in
Pushin', juggin' but it don't irritate
No force, no court, no need to litigate
I be kickin' it, stickin' this di*k off in these b*tches
It's gettin' ridiculous, I hope I don't get sick of this
[Chorus]:
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Oooooooooo-Ooooo
Oooooooooo-Ooooo
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