Let's Swing

[Verse 1:] Yeah, yo You might catch me at the local pub, postin' up Bud Light Loving life with breathren, step into the thug type To starting dumb fights, but you ain't tryna do shit Plus your hat looks like it's four sizes too big I'll strangle you fags with your doorags Nice bedazzled shirt homie, you look like a douchebag And it's too bad that I don't like to wear fake shit Cause I would love to smack that face with your chain, and snatch your bracelet Save it, I'll put your tan face on the dirt Keep starrin' at my girl, she's laughing at your Ed Hardy shirt You ain't hardly worth the five cent deposit on the bottle That's about to smash your face if you pop shit Don't get obnoxious, cause we can step out-fuckin-side And do you like a condom, fuck with you and bust inside I'm not impressed by you talking about your gun And I don't associate your rep with the town your from Chorus: Let's swing, when I'm talkin', let's show 'em how we walkin' Let's swing, around me this shit happen very often Let's swing, swing 'til there's nothing left to swing at Hey yo, tell 'em where the fuck you've been at [2X] [Verse 2:] I'll smack the gel off your head while you faggots pump your fist And you girls are gross, I wouldn't even let you suck my dick Orange faces and fake tits, nose jobs and spray tans Covering your busted face with Ray Jams I ain't even tryin' to hate man But I'd be a techno DJ if I wanted gay fans I can't break dance, but I could break your man's arm properly And I don't give a fuck if the security guard's watching me I came to get a drink, and find some weird chicks with pierced tits You came here to dance on some queer shit My beard's thick, plus I'm dressed like a scumbag And I still get more women than dumb fags Your girl's a cunt rag, money hungry, materialistic bitch With a thousand dollar pocketbook, with nothing in the shit I'm sick of it, so when you see a dude like me Clear a mothafuckin' path before I run your jewelry [Chorus] [Verse 3:] Yeah, yo My favorite shit is the cats at rap shows With black flows, dressed like a bunch of assholes Loud mouths talkin' about guns and the gangs they're in And it's always the wackest dudes that they end up managing So when the crowd don't show them love they take it personally Like they do when I don't give them beats or verses for free Homie, you ain't murdering me, so don't even fuckin' tempt me If you were hard, instead of screaming you would've swung already And something tells me that your girl ain't really happy Cause while you went to buy her a drink, she was hollering at me But I don't want that bitch, I got my own chicks And my crew was packin' venues out back in '06 Please, I throw fists like I throw parties You throw fits, and hate on me cause I spit dope shit Know this, I do this for the love, but I will fight And if you think I'm talkin' about you, you're probably right [Chorus]