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letra de duke westlake cypher - intuition

1 for the credit debt
2 for the netflix
3 e-mails each from
4 internet chicks, and
5 for the fingernails bitten to the skin
the sixth sense sinner blowing kisses in the wind, look
booked a gig, sipped a fifth and missed the show though
hit a christmas shin dig to kiss the mistletoe ho’s
i don’t wear rubbers stick my d-ck in every hole
so if i die by the third verse, insert a whistle solo
yeah, i’m by the dock of the bay
throwing dollars in a coffin, locking profits away
off my rocker, drinking vodka straight shots to the face
until i call my boss and say “i need off for the day”
you should probably go and bite your bottom lip
that might help you harbor that problem you got with talking sh-t
intuition rolls with an awesome clique
grab a rapper by the throat and tell him hop up off the di-dic-
dictionary dialect, keeping they v-g-n-‘s wet
i put the c0ke in miley cyrus’ sinuses
tryna find a sign that says i’m fine with where my mind has been
and then decide that i haven’t quite decided yet
keep it realer than t-tties that sag to belly b-ttons
you can try but you haters just can not tell me nuthin’
i think my conscience has been severed from inside
cos i live life like i ain’t ever gonna die, no
the flows einstein, sipping a white wine
my breezy on that einsenhower type of power, dime fine
peep the timeline, wreck records since nine-nine
at every show i got fans reciting memorized lines
i ain’t dumb, dummy
every word that come from me
meditated on breaths deep down in my lungs buddy
the rap g*nius, you still need to come study
bet me, i don’t need a peggy when selling these bud bundys
don’t get stabbed in the back dude
look me in them snake eyes, shake dice, cr-p shoot
i blast through the gl-ss roof
i am not looking past you, i’m looking at-choo
gesundheit, move through the moonlight
with two dyk-s who might, switch up if the tunes right
take them out to dinner on a school night and turn a fancy feast into a food fight
fiddlesticks
i’m tired of getting played like the middle kid
speaking out of term until they pump me up with ritalin
mr.go-and-get-it-till-the-bitter-end
unless you find me dying at a dive off a whiskey binge, b-tch

- intuition

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