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letra de p.s.k. - isolated beingz

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[intro]
hi, i’m tim webster. we’re outside the vmas on the red carpet. we are here now with– oh, my god! he’s got a gun!
everybody freeze! don’t even breathe! isolated beingz, b-tch! what the f-ck? you wasn’t invited? let me see! let me see the numbers b-tch!
don’t you f-ckin’ move, seacrest
my god!

[chorus: ruthless rob]
pop pop! f-ck all the billboards, man
pop pop! f-ck that grammy in your hand
pop pop! f-ck these f-ggot boy bands
yo, it’s p.s.k., f-ck ’em all, murderland
i’m a pop star k!ller and i’m runnin’ this sh-t
run up in your record label with a gun and some clips
ain’t n0body in they right mind f-ckin’ with this
ib comin’ through with the wickedest sh-t

[verse 1: ruthless rob]
i’m a pop star k!ller, f-ck what you say
f-ck the radio and your whack dj
britney spears gave me a vj
then i scalped the b-tch, she said crime does pay
sent her on her way, then i moved to the next one
f-ck the mainstream, i got ’em in check son
peep the resurrection, swallow my erection
wicked sh-t representin’, break your neck son
get ’em done with a one two three
f-ck the industry and the fake ass g’s
actin’ like you hard with a small ass t
i’ll break your f-ckin’ jaw if you f-cks with me
i’ll k!ll your grandma with a broke cd
you wanna smoke my weed and act like you down?
please, b-tch freeze and run that sh-t
i seen them platinum plaques, b-tch, i want that sh-t (heh)
[chorus: 2-face & ruthless rob]
pop pop! f-ck all the billboards, man
pop pop! f-ck that grammy in your hand
pop pop! f-ck these f-ggot boy bands
yo, it’s p.s.k., f-ck ’em all, murderland
i’m a pop star k!ller and i’m runnin’ this sh-t
run up in your record label with a gun and some clips
ain’t n0body in they right mind f-ckin’ with this
ib comin’ through with the wickedest sh-t

[verse 2: 2-face]
still run around the vmas with a hand grenade
and a seven-inch blade, stabbin’ stars in the face
i saw avril and choked that sl-t with her tie
her eyes rolled back in her head as she died
sneakin’ in the back, i see two fine-ass racks
mackin’ on lindsay lohan and brooke hogan
i left them b-tches swimmin’ in a blood-filled ocean
then i took a hit of what they been smokin’
now i’m on pcp and i don’t give a sh-t
threw the grenade at the bad good charlotte
straight lunatic, i stabbed the fall out boys
yellin’ “where my zombiez at? bring on the noise!”
i took off my ass and shook timberlake’s hand
i broke all the awards and i p-ssed all the fans
took off my pants and i did the murder boogie
then i stuck my fist up ashlee simpson’s cookie
[chorus: 2-face & ruthless rob]
pop pop! f-ck all the billboards, man
pop pop! f-ck that grammy in your hand
pop pop! f-ck these f-ggot boy bands
yo, it’s p.s.k., f-ck ’em all, murderland
i’m a pop star k!ller and i’m runnin’ this sh-t
run up in your record label with a gun and some clips
ain’t n0body in they right mind f-ckin’ with this
ib comin’ through with the wickedest sh-t

[verse 3: ruthless rob & 2-face]
pop star b-tch, i’ma pop that ass
take your f-ckin’ life when i drop that ass
and straight cop some grass and smoke a blunt to your death
it’s a celebration with a hole in your chest
i k!lled a whole nation, leave it a mess
it’s wicked sh-t for life, it ain’t goin’ to rest
you b-tches know we the best, we f-ckin’ sell out, f-g
i kick the wicked sh-t and leave you in a body bag (facts!)
take your top ten and shove it up your ass, f-g
you don’t write lyrics so why you trynna brag?
you get toe tagged or left on a hook (woohoo!)
it’s pop star k!ller and i’m playin’ the crook
yo i wrote the book how to murder these pop stars
dance like a girl so why you tryna act hard?
drivin’ in a fast car, yo, it makes me sick
you suck your manager’s d-ck just to get an album hit
[chorus: 2-face & ruthless rob]
pop pop! f-ck all the billboards, man
pop pop! f-ck that grammy in your hand
pop pop! f-ck these f-ggot boy bands
yo, it’s p.s.k., f-ck ’em all, murderland
i’m a pop star k!ller and i’m runnin’ this sh-t
run up in your record label with a gun and some clips
ain’t n0body in they right mind f-ckin’ with this
ib comin’ through with the wickedest sh-t
pop pop! f-ck all the billboards, man
pop pop! f-ck that grammy in your hand
pop pop! f-ck these f-ggot boy bands
yo, it’s p.s.k., f-ck ’em all, murderland
i’m a pop star k!ller and i’m runnin’ this sh-t
run up in your record label with a gun and some clips
ain’t n0body in they right mind f-ckin’ with this
ib comin’ through with the wickedest sh-t

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