Testi:
Bush Dead Meat

your dead meat your dead meat your dead meat your your dead meat from former days I am your crisis blue asbestos in your veins I'm your broken fingers

: your dead meat your dead meat your dead meat your your dead meat from former days I am your crisis blue asbestos in your veins I'm your broken fingers

where I'm paying no taxes I'll stick your girl, Agnus Flipmode bring the madness Platinum status, Rampage I'm the baddest Check the credit, yo you might as well dead

boots, like how the fuck the rats get in my boots A brown metal that sizzles, wrap up more dead meat then riddles Injuries that have you missing more

a fucking difference to me Cause I'll be doing this for eternity Learn to be the best MC that's steps ahead Didn't have a plan, so you was left for dead

FULL CLIP, PLUG 'DAT PUSS!! Hit it from the back and blow out that bush Tappin' nedens, taggin' nedens, that be my thing Know my bitches from they taggles

Halcyon prick absinthe loaded. Popes moselle in Christ, slurping dead Jim's fat ass wife with shamrocks and driftwood. I'm an articulate man, but the

boys on the hunt of a job stood in the blizzardy wind Hungry and cold they knocked on the doors of the working folks around For a piece of meat and a

from the valley to the bay claim [Verse 3: Woodie] We're tippy-toein' through there set, mission to kill a vet Bush to bush we infiltrate at a rate