Blow

If this was a game

I already know that I would come out winner

And I'm not braggin', I'mma be in her

But this bitch really think that I'm 'bout to buy her dinner

My steak good, I got a good cut like splinter

Juicy and hot such a black bitch temper

Now she wanna talk and chop it up like a blender

But I don't give a fuck and keep her list'in like Schindler

She's cute but her forehead's big

Got stretch marks like she got four kids

Her legs can't close like the four door hinge Bronco

That O.J. killed the white hos with

A wealthy white girl without the facelift

Lure her with expensive dinners and a nice bracelet

Leave the bitch breathless, what the bitch don't know is that

I'm a muthafuckin' sellout and a rapist

Baby, you're an angel

How 'bout we turn this into a fable of some sort?

You already know you're dead

Ironic cause your lipstick is red, of course

I stuff you in the trunk, drunk

Cause all I really wanna do is fuck and snort blow

If this was a game

I would be considered a muthafuckin' legend

And I ain't tryna gas you up like Chevron

But I'm high as fuck bitch, you really need to get on my leverage

Now we're in the cabin, in the middle of uhh

Tryna find ways to really stuff you in my cabinet

Dreamy little bastard, I done ran outta luck so now

It's time for a bloody foot you little rabbit

You're very attractive, and notice that

My hat is always the color of cactus

And I hang with wolves cause I'm an evil Bastard

Pictures of you on my wall no glue, no tape but just cum plastered

Met you at my school, departed at my house

Ended at your panties, started at your blouse

Pushed you down stairs, I took a nap up on the couch

If you wanted a date, don't come

Now you gotta make it easy for me don't run

You call this shit kids, well I call these kids cum

And you call this shit rape but I think that rape's fun

Wait now it's about eight somethin

It's late and you stuck in my base-one

Come downstairs with nothin' but a shoe string

Yeah bitch this date's done

Baby, you're an angel

How 'bout we turn this into a fable of some sort?

You already know you're dead

Ironic cause your lipstick is red, of course

I stuff you in the trunk, drunk

Cause all I really wanna do is fuck and snort blow

I like my girls how I like my drugs, white

Lord, you're so pretty, lyin' in my arms

I just got one request, stop breathin'