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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Song: | Bitches |
Album: | (hed) pe | Genres: | Rock |
Year: | 1997 |
Length: | 718 sec |
Lyrics:
Oh yeah, well I could see it, feel it The spirit as it was leaving my body No, it would not stay for a while I turned and watched it crawl away So far away-I could not see that far And all those things I held so sacred (For every goddamn thing) It's failed me They betray me These pins these needles They never leave me This crooked cross is bleeding deeply Let the wine fill my veins Bring the time to change my mind Wash away this dirty soul This dirty soul of mine The curtain it slowly closes The players how they quickly change around you Not a trace No familiar face Only the soundtrack and the bruises we keep to ourselves I reach out and I wait forever I speak out my thoughts die My cross is crooked My spirit is denied Let the smoke close my eyes Bring the time to change my mind Wash away this dirty soul This dirty soul of mine See this man is waiting In the park it's raining so hard Wash away this soul This dirty soul of mine Why can't you feel me? Some say The world is dying Nothing stays the same Nothing good remains No one ever stays Feelings always fade away People change and lives are destroyed I will never walk with you again Never again will we share the days my friend Oh my friend Oh my sweet friend Let the smoke close my eyes Bring the time to change my mind Wash away this soul Wash away this soul Neva' fear Sluts in the front Ho's in the rear Tits, clits, bong hits your fists in the air! Aw, DJ, my fellow freakers, dancers, tweakers Come on we blew up these speakers Well I know I kinda fuck like a virgin in sundress and sneakers God damn, your pussy like squeaking Them lips they like speaking, listen I hear 'em laughing at you I kinda like what that pussy put me through (say what?) I kinda like what that dirty little ho put me through Shit could be worse Second verse, phase 2 Could be you Let her cum and go get intra talkin' shit talkin' fag We roll the weed with the Rolex tag, come at me When he see me lock dressed and he said I know it was on the way you from me, how we chomp a tit My trick, the stripper sit down on this, uh-uh-uh Aw baby told me the new years of the math Yeah I'll write a check, biggest fine, make it fat You financing my next hydro sack Sixty laps later, 6 G's later See me chillin' with the 8 track in the 48 tracks The contracts, I sign the spark lines, sinners, backfights Tits, clits, bong hits, so hot, super fly Yo D why they tripin? Ha It's cause we get into HB strippers that they playin' to play hands on Yeah you fucking pussy So don't say shit Yeah you know who got my back Got some more nigger come up in that white boy G strap This is for the ho, my ho, bro's who know And the nigger T-Love, where he's at nobody know And the kids at the liquor store I'll be buying beer for A mummy or myself, but I'll brak the tour Yeah straight from the jungle This is the (hed) NIGGA MCUD Hah hah hah hah, Jahred in this motherfucker
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