i-songtexte.com | Songtext/Lyric Blow Me von Kid-Rock
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Kid Rock
Blow Me
A bottle of jacks got my manager grinnin yeah thats me that keeps the turntables spinniN Im countin cards and I keep on winnin I know God hates me cuz Im always sinnin U dont know me blow me ho you wanna get hot youll get your ass blown out fuckin with the Kid Rock Eatin up ya suckers just the same way a beast could tearin thru your town like muther fuckin Clint Eastwood Cuz I be fakin the rhymes that keep ya shakin makin a lotta money but dont let me be mistaken I never thought about climbin up the pop chart and I dont give a fuck u cant buy my tape in K-Mart Give me a choice between soundin like an ass wipe or sittin in an alley smokin crack from a glass pipe Id be as skinny as a junkie with the AIDS plague but still Id look better than a puppet tryin to get paid Now check the rhyme as i climb and I co get rude and send ya runnin playin pussy like Shaggy and Scoob Cuz Im the wrong dude to fuck with my mouth is mental and Im a tear shit up like they did in South Central Son of a bitch Im the son of a bitch nobody ever loved u so youre the son of a dick Im a product of a young girl top in her class youre a product of a hooker who was sellin that ass And your styles in the past its old and dusty so from now on Im callin u M.C. Crusty Cuz to face me u must be blitzed or blasted so now Im gonna drop ya like a hit of acid And when I rip ya people they might stare cuz I got more rhymes than Donahues got white hair An yo buck wont you please be a friend And tell your mom I wanna fuck and Ill pick her up at 10
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