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letra de q - forts

i got away with words but i couldn’t shake the manslaughter
dead bl–dy birds in the punch at my alma mater’s
twenty year reunion, baptized in bong water
spry, wry, and gray, i’m the beekeeper’s granddaughter

just ‘cuz i rap, don’t mean i attack women
like tune-yards, i’m prouder and blacker than most black women
but just black as in the color of my soul
if incorporeality wasn’t just a bunch of bull

my saliva’s got the sickness i’m like sylvia plath on salvia
if sunny’s short for sob i’m f-cking philadelphia
i’ll probably end up dying from a peanut b-tter allergen
or straight up flat-lining with a stomach full of valium

chilling at the crib watching sifl and olly
and boning up for quiz team, crescent fresh dali
un chien andalou, dead rotting donkeys
black francis got it wrong tell salvador you’re sorry

yeah, i’m playing with words like a f-cked up kid plays with dead birds
i’m playing with words

codeine, acetaminophen, drift past the median
blood dripping off my t–th again, a taste of my own medicine
inebriated, get on the off ramp and let it spin
i’d love to take her down with me, no barbie, i’m no f-ckin ken

i use more lubrication for my m-st-rbation than kreayshawn
trying to jerk it to chevy chase in a train station
but this ain’t christmas vacation, i told you that’s g-y, son
the sickest thing to hit the dub c is ak, hon

you can’t top my job description, i’m an artist of the sandwich
making tritone subs you can call me mr. flat fifths
flatbread, egg whites, eat her out for breakfast
you’re looking for a footlong? i can satisfy your hunger, b-tch

my french forensic friends are cracking cases
like crumbly cave-aged cheese with beards and goatees
i’m not neil hamburger but i got more sleaze
than mr. freeze or nick cage screaming “not the bees”

what would you say if i got sick in the brain
and brought some cocaine to your game of croquet
left skulls crushed up in the clay
clutching a bl–dy mallet, i’m cutting all the brakes
checking into the bates and i’m just biting my lip
this f-cker’s crazy as bruce wayne taking a sh-t
b-b-b-b-tches say “oh, brian” like i got my own blimp
yeah, catch me eating jumbo shrimp from jungle jim’s get at me, b-tch

my v’s are so deep they’re just vests with sleeves
and my rhymes are so confusing you’ll be logging on to ask jeeves
i challenge you to find the thieves of lines about keanu reeves
autumn leaves, dry heaves, william michael herbert greaves
christmas eve, ’06, tambourine drumsticks
magnifying gl-ss to burn up ants just for sick kicks
kid tested, mom approved, from ak foods to you
a stew of charleston chews, nutrasweet, and cheap unfiltered booze

- forts

letras aleatórias

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