Tekst piosenki
[Intro]
Fretza: This shit don’t feel too good man.. Fuck
(puking)
Someone call a doctor…
Someone call a doctor…
Someone call a doctor…
BITCH Someone call a doctor…
MOTHERFUCKER SOMEONE CALL A DOCTOR!
QUICK
[Verse 1]
I don’t like to go too hard in this shit, Unless I’m fuckin a bitch and then you know I get in
I took your mother out for pork fried rice, brought her back to the stalls and we called up Eric Wright
He gave us some AIDs and went back to his grave and sits there sometimes
She gave me a sob and another quick tear until I packed up my bags and I called her a queer
Getting to leave fucking smokin’ at leaves and fucking swinging at weaves and fucking hanging from trees
Grab a mother fucker from behind and knock out his fucking lights, put him in my tub and he wakes up to still fight
[Interlude]
Man.. my head.. I think I’m done for the night
[Verse 2]
No I’m not, I’m just getting started like a porno, so slow feeling all crusty like Digiornos
Motherfuckers holding guns and pointing tips right in the middle, screaming loud saying proud „hey diddle diddle”
I don’t know what to do so I’ll call out my mind state, here grab a microphone and join in on this mind rape
I know I use bad language, man who gives a fuck? I grabbed your fucking mother and threw that bitch into a tub
Grabbed her fuckin titty and junk, put her milk into a jug. Then called up pete who then called the police and then we fucked up with a dub
Of some new Lil Wayne shit. I got some rhymes that I can’t spit. Someone help me out here please? Ah fuck it, get on your knees!
[Interlude]
Pete: Fucking shit dude!
Fretza: What man?
Pete: I caught you passed out man you ok?
Fretza: Uhm
[Verse 3]
Man I ain’t OK, cause If I was I wouldn’t be past sentimental to a grave
Shit, where am I going? I need help with fucking knowing, I can’t read I can’t write I can’t spell, AH SHIT SOMEONE PULL ME OUT OF THIS HELL
Well anyway I’m feeling fine and dandy so why don’t you just leave or else I call the po-lice
Pete: Man you can’t stand on your own two feet
Fretza: Shut up before you get your shit beat, you lucky your parents named you pete cause I would name you a fucking sleeze
[Interlude]
Pete:SERIOUSLY DUDE WAKE UP
[Verse 4]
Fine man, fuck it whatever. I’ll fucking get up but I ain’t feeling any better
It feels good on the wood floor with one arm lay on a door and sitting and thinking about how to fucking heal my core
Shit, if that ain’t right, then I’ll fucking get up and stab it out like a stainless steel kitchen knife!
And If I stay up past bedtime, then I get sick real fine. Paradox? Yes but it rhymes. Can someone please heal me and fill me in on my ill mind?
Hand it out
(passes out)
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