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letra de suicide hotline - cody manson

suicide hotline lyrics
[intro: cody manson & g-mo skee]
luck of the irish
yeah, it’s cody manson!
trife life sh-t!
g-mo skee what up? (yeah!)
look! look!

[verse 1: cody manson]
b-tch i’m back from the dead like jordan rocking forty five
did my time, made it out alive, how fortunate am i
a certified schizophrenic, yeah, i’m really out my mind
keep a four-five just in case these rappers get out of line
i was inspired by michael myers, dismember your body with a tire iron and a pair of pliers
set your torso on fire, stuff your limbs in the dryer
then i hop the counter at mcdonald’s, drop your head in the fryer (splash!)
i’m out my body and my spirit’s on jupiter
before i spit this verse, i’ll eat some lucy and get lucid first
you want to be rap devils, ain’t got nothing on lucifer (hahaha)
swearing you a gangster, but you wear a f-cking gucci purse
don’t get me started, ninety percent of them sound r-t-rded
desperate starving artists sucking d-ck for a taste at stardom
i’m white trash but i’m far from garbage
i’m just a gumpus from the land of the heartless

[chorus: cody manson]
if you f-cking with me then you flirting with death (yeah!)
f-cking with me’s like playing russian roulette (-gun cl!cks and booms-)
i making all these rappers wanna k!ll theyself
put the gun down go and get some help
call the suicide hotline
call the suicide hotline
call the suicide hotline
call the suicide hotline
1-800-b-tch-k!ll-yourself (-gun cl!cks-)
[verse 2: cody manson]
look, if you talking sh-t when i see you, i’m catching felonies
they claiming that they sick well then b-tch, i’m the remedy
i’m a god, you a dog, we not the same pedigree
all these p-ssy cats, i’m just passing out the ketamine
throw ’em in the trash, ain’t no gremlin can see me
that same bullsh-t, a bunch of blah blah on repeat
i’m in your face just like star wars in 3d
i snap your mixtape and slit your throat with the cd
you think you sl!ck, yeah, i heard yo little sneak diss
but if you say my name, i’ll slap them fangs right off your t–th, b-tch (haha)
i’m making all these other rappers jealous
bunch of culture vultures trying to eat up off my plate and i won’t let ’em
donald trump, i’m grabbing p-ssy by the fistful
summon saddam hussein to show me to the missiles
you think you stand a chance, boy, you must be on that crystal
put the mic down, you might as well just smoke a pistol

[chorus: cody manson]
if you f-cking with me then you flirting with death (yeah!)
f-cking with me’s like playing russian roulette (-gun cl!cks and booms-)
i making all these rappers wanna k!ll theyself
put the gun down go and get some help
call the suicide hotline
call the suicide hotline
call the suicide hotline
call the suicide hotline
1-800-b-tch-k!ll-yourself (-gun cl!cks-)
[verse 3: g-mo skee]
(uh g-mo)
yo, who said legends never die, they was telling lies (n-gga hush)
i let my felons ride, now your f-cking melon fried
impaling knives in your spine leave you paralyzed (sit down)
then bury your ass alive with a limited air supply (filth!)
i smoke spinach, stay medicated, great (yeah!)
giving n-ggas the beats for this lettuce on my plate (uh huh)
put a potato on the barrel, then i fed it to your face
he’s trying to turn up and now you in a vegetative state (woo!)
you a cupcake to me and i’m a violent n-gga
you sweet, i shoot up your bakery like a five percenter
turn your shirt bright magenta (b-tch!)
you on the ground screaming “i surrender!”
i can’t forget you’re f-cking with my agenda
i snap like mouse traps, you ain’t about that
we pull out straps that strong enough to push a house back
so you can let them lips on your mouth flap
you really just committing suicide and this is the f-cking soundtrack

- cody manson

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