Porn Flakes

V1

Friday night, and yo, we just got paid/

We’re on our way to sight Miami, F-L-A nightlife to promenade/

It’s time to say exactly where to route the streets to scout freaks…/

The words that collectively come out each mouth be South Beach/

We seek to reach the sheets of Hotel suites that’s candy coated/

So, yo, if you’re bringing a van, you’d better believe it’s gonna get loaded/

To the full. Cause RBM is in effect to that extent/

We rent a hundred percent of the bitches at the age of consent/

(So here we go) We hit the spot about a quarter to twelve-/

It’s Tone, Logic, Opie 1, and G-I-double the L/

Craze is the definition of record spinnin’ precision/

Gettin’ chicks in position’s the mission of this expedition/

So, my vision is in focus on the dancefloor/

More ‘Get-It, Get It’- ‘Shake That Ass’- whores than you could ask for/

And as for Logic, there was some blonde bitch with some tits that looked atomic saying she want it-/

That calculated nigga’s counting on it/

Ope and Gill were scoopin’ bitches by the numbers/

So I began to wonder If I would pass to wax that ass before my slumber/

U under A full-over-Miami-moon/

But soon enough She simply hit me with a smile and said, “Hi, my name is Trixie.”/

She said she was a Gypsy, told me I was sexy/

Wanted to show me she could do origami with her pussy lips/

She tried to kiss me on the spot, I guess she deemed she felt the need/

I said, “I know you’re fast Trixie, but my name is not Speed.”/

She was barely 19, but, fuck, the bitch was lookin’ wicked/

With them type of D-S-L’s that screamed for you to put your dick inside her mouth/

She’d turn it out, I’m shoutin’ no doubt and no question/

When it comes to blows this girl would cave your fuckin’ chest in/

So, next in the mode of operations is to ditch/

With Trixie, Logic, Opie, Gill, and the Atomic Titty Bitch/

I flip the switch to open the trunk, so we can load the extra baggage/

Now it seems we’ve got more people than I think the van can manage/

So, yes, I begin to panic, And, man, I’m throwin fits/

And I’m just swerving, cause I can’t see past atomic bitch’s tits/

Now, ‘Ahh, Shit’, here come the pigs and they be burnin’ my tail/

They said, “Excuse me, Tone, we heard you had some herb to inhale…”/

I said, “I’m sorry, officer, I’m not that type of MC./

See, I embellish the status of my creativity/

(y) Bitches are my addiction when the rhythm can’t be/

But, I won’t tell no one you asked me if you let me go free.”/

He said, “Si”, which translated to our asses moving on to the part of the song that had us naked in the sauna at Motel Iguana/

Now, Opie’s bitch’s name was Shauna and Gill’s was Ivana/

And those two hookers was too live to be as nasty as they wanna/

Talkin’ ‘bout whips and hand-cuffs, claiming only when they’re battered and bruised they’ve had ‘nuff/

Now, that’s ruff and tumble shit I’m not equipped to handle/

If she wants to be a masochist, then that’s a bitch I can’t get with/

They said, “Chill.” Took off the panties, spread legs they flexed/

Certain proceeds of the paychecks went towards latex for safe sex/

It’s time to get my face wet, the pussy taste test/

Trixie tells me my Dick tastes best while I remove the bitch’s playtex/

The sexual Apex. This scene resembles an X-rated playset/

Swinging upon the dicks they park on, So, now the place gets/

Hotter than steam boats. Pull out the willie in a hurry/

She said, “Damn, you’re dick is bigger than them words from Keith Murray”/

‘Yo, it bee’s like that sometimes’, stinging that ass with fury/

Don’t wear no yellow jacket, still Georgia Tech hoes prefer me/

‘Cause you can’t lose with this big Johnson, it’s a casino up in here/

Because it’s Licker up front and Poker in the rear/

I strip and lose the T-Shirt. We flirt with penetration for a second/

I tickled the clit, ‘cause I figured the bitch would now resort to beggin’/

I’m slippin’ the dick in with that special move for wreckin’/

Checkin’ the fucks like hockey pucks and ass attackin’ like it’s Tekken 2/

I betcha guessin’ who would ever have a night (Such as)/

The one I’m talkin’ about, where me and the crew be gettin’ (Much ass)/

Not poppin’ trash, but, yo, Any dirt could happen/

So, uh, Just gimme a second so I can keep that ass splackin.

V2

So, anyways, as I was saying, yo, the fuckfest proceeds/

Four kids be fixed in friction, four hookers be on their knees/

Like in one way or the other, either, they’re lickin’ cocks or gettin rocked/

Just when you thought 8 was enough- well it’s not/

(Knock, Knock) who’s at the door?/

I be trippin over them hookers on the floor Tryin’ to get my pants on/

Hey, yo, it’s 3:34 in the morning, time’s passed on/

Yo, it was Mannyphesto and DJ Craze with their grasps on/

2 other Rave bitches that I didn’t recognize/

Sized ‘em up enough to give the ‘Go Head’, so they could dive/

Into the Live wire strip twister match we had going…/

Tits and Ass showin’, everybody hoeing’ in the place/

No space, it was a blatant exhibition/

Face fishin’ between the hips till we create the next position in the Kama Sutra/

We shoot to make the text revisions/

‘Sutra’ comma; Makin’ ‘em scream for preposition repetitions/

No matter how cute you are, you’re probably a future star for Porno/

Rubbing my dick in the car, so, yo, quit trying to act so formal/

Her sexual appetite’s beyond abnormal, so you know that when the morn’ breaks/

She want’s to eat another bowl of Porn Flakes/

But, there’s a double meaning to the term/

Second being a ditsy-bitch that keeps it creamin’ on a firm cock/

And she can burn spots and light ‘em up; she never minds a fuck/

She’ll even make a frigid nigga turn hot to ride him up/

But, right now, I’m tryin’ to suck this hoochie’s coochie/

While fuckin’ the brains out this bitch that’s workin’ my dick, and I’m hearing “SWITCH!”/

It’s a house party, baby, kids be glued to the couch/

The time has cum for niggas to do the same and ‘Spoochindamouth’!/

So, yo, we’re bustin’ nuts, and us- we aim at the chin/

And I lost it when Logic said to his bitch, “Yo, what’s your name again?”/

Gilligan, Opie, Craze, and Mannyphesto did the same/

But, before I had the chance to change, Yo, I noticed something strange./

There was something about Trixie that really bothered me/

A big ole’ fuckin’ grin on her face like she just won the lottery/

When I figured she oughtta be brushing her teeth or finding her bra…/

But, Yo, my eyes were in awe when she bust out the chainsaw/

My brain stalled for a second I hopped back with no hesitation/

I caught the relation of this hooker’s saw and mutilation/

The closer she came, the more we shouted/

She said, “Motherfuckers, you’re ‘bout to suffer the same fame as John Bobbit!”/

Suddenly, the cameramen jumped out the closet/

And that tig-ole’ bitty bitch’s tits turned out to be atomic/

And them Shauna and Ivana girls were totally robotic/

And them 2 rave bitches-well, they were knotted from the jump./

(But, Anyhow) This Trixie bitch was wiggin’ on me, on the spot/

She said, “It’s men like you who turn us women into sexpots/

And meat- pieces objectified. I’m here to rectify the stain!”/

Then the girl took off her face and, goddamn, “It’s Chasey Lain”/

Then they all took off their masks and what a change if I’ve ever seen/

To Sunset hookers, actresses, and Supermodel Beauty Queens/

I wonder what this truly means… It’s all a scheme to make me pay/

For being a Dog, yo, fuck this, move out bitch get outta my way—” (Chainsaw ensues)