Blow Me

Lyrics

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 'cause I'm always sinnin'  
  
You don't know me blow me ho you want to 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 through your town like mother fuckin Clint Eastwood  
  
'cause 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 you 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  
'cause 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 you 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 you M.C. Crusty  
'cause to face me you 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  
'cause 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 want to fuck and I'll pick her up at 10