Crumbs

Intro: I told you, it’s that West Side Art Goon Craigslist Killer Shit That best in the west That pervert life shit That best in the world They can’t fuck with Speakinho anymore Easy fucking money! Verse: Weed crumbs in my Mac Book Bitches in my black book Good for that head but they got to go They can’t cook Little cochina shaking ass en mi cocina I think her name Sabrina (what?!) She might be a ballerina (what?!) Shots of that tequila, now she call me maravilla With tattoos on her face, trying to be like Pata Fria I park her like a Kia, roll that pussy like a Porshe Of course, she sucking dick until her voice is hoarse (perv) Now, that is when I gallop, oysters and the scallops But you were on that little shrimp scampi and them salads My hair is bigger than a Bon Jovi ballad I’m stepping foot in any hood, they tell me that I’m valid (perv) They tell me that your boys bobbing, weaving like you Floyd (perv) You smoking like a fiend lurking in the shadows paranoid That ain’t my business, lord can I get a witness? My future baby momma got the fitness of a gymnast She doing yoga love them crystals and the Maharishi But still she super freaky, fuck me in that Mitsubishi (perv) My crown chakra on another world you couldn’t reach me Word to KoЯn, life is peachy, Speaky rapping beasty I been crunk, polo horses on my swim trunks This shit is easy, where my chopsticks where my dim, son I feel like Big Pun, I feel like big [?] Vader on a hater but I make it out to Sada My boots are alligator (perv) my grin is crocodile (perv) God bless the USA my style Colonel Guile Outro: (…gave a fuck about Speakinho!) Motherfuckers! (Hat trick all on a bitch!) I told them, they couldn’t fuck with me! The legendary. Let’s get it