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letra de fuck owls - sam brass knuckles

[intro]
mr owl, how many licks does it take to get to the tootsie roll center of a tootsie pop?
let’s find out
one, two-hoo, three-
[gunshot noise]
don’t take my f-cking tootsie pop, b-tch

[verse 1]
now what smells so foul that you gotta hold your nose?
you gonna need a towel and a spare set of clothes
it’ll empty its bowels from your head to your toes
while it flies overhead
i howl at that pr-ck and i wish he was dead
that f-cker scowls back at me and tries to sh-t on my head
so p-ssed that i growl my rage, all that i see is red
do you know what i’m talking about?
how ’bout now?
i’m talking about a motherf-cking owl
i pull a piece out, aim at you and i shoot
peace out, you’re dead now, i don’t give a hoot
i give less than a sh-t, i don’t give a poot
no one thinks that owls are cute, all they do is pollute
i get a shotgun, the bullets distribute into your feather suit
and if you don’t die from that, i’ll squeeze you like a fruit
fresh! go ahead, call me a brute
but i k!lled the owl so people salute

[chorus: sample]
one, two-hoo, a-three
how many licks does it take to get to the tootsie roll center of a tootsie pop?
the world may never know
one, two-hoo, a-three
how many licks does it take to get to the tootsie roll center of a tootsie pop?
the world may never know

[bridge]
mister owl, how many kicks does it take to get to the bl–dy center of an owl’s skull?
just one, b-tch

[verse 2]
if birds had school, you’d be the misfit freak no one likes
you got a tiny beak
f-cking eyes that never blink
when you try to speak, all you say is “hoot” and you stink
if i rapped with you for seven days, i’d call it a weak week
you hoot, but most birds say cheep cheep
i’ll poke you in the eye, make you cry, make you weep weep
then i’ll put your head on the street
and curb stomp your beak
c-curb stomp your beak
and wash your blood in my godd-mn sink
what do you think?
match the span of your jaw to your godd-mn wings
and your head turns round 180 degrees
who gives a sh-t? not me
you sitting and staring from the branch of my tree
make like the tree and f-cking leave
i’ll punch a hole in you, get blood on my sleeve
go ahead pr-ck, try to plead for your life
but you’re already f-cked, so there’s no need

- sam brass knuckles

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