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letra de oh! - the dead girlz

[intro: razakel]
these two c-ck-in-mouth aids infested b-tches wanna diss me, but only if someone else writes wicked lyrics for them. like i said before, you’re just as fake as your f-cking talent and whoever told you that you had sk!ll only wanted to ruin you. hahaha

[verse 1: razakel]
aw sh-t, it’s razakel in this b-tch
stepping out from the shadows spitting that real wicked sh-t
f-cking up these ugly b-tches thinking they true high class
they ain’t nothing but disgraces with d-ck stuck up their asses
classless d-ck-riding c-ck-in-mouth queens
using juggalos by claiming wicked sh-t in a hip-hop scene
i’ma hang you by your weave and knock your dyk- size back in place
i ain’t that lady-like b-tches i will sh-t on your face
oh and lady morgan, miss sarah and teresa
hope you got your vd cards ’cause y’all are well known skeezers
razakel the wicked queen, get down on your knees
so why can death be my b-tch? just like sicktanick did to lo key
[chorus: razakel & sicktanick]
oh, oh (yeah!)
we love to make the blood (yeah!) flow, flow (oh!)
from these ugly cross-eyed green fake-haired (oh!) hoes, hoes (yeah!)
’cause they don’t know, they don’t know (okay)
that we the wicked b-tches taking (oh!) sh-t under control (oh!)
oh, oh (yeah!)
dead and six feet (yeah!) deep below, below (oh!)
’cause these stupid b-tches don’t know how (oh!) we roll, how we roll (yeah!)
but now they’ll know, but now they’ll know (okay!)
’cause we write our own lyrics (oh!) and singing the write note (oh!)

[verse 2: lyssa cer]
no more room in h-ll, i bet they’d clear a sp-ce for trash connections like you
searing hot, get disgraced and nameless in the game are the only true things that you do
chinese d-ck trap and i beat ripped pats
time you think you’re f-cking hard, cum in ass on the frontline
mean mind’s got that evil sh-t, falling through our wicked queen b-tch phase (we ain’t giving no fall out)
only reason that you claim it’s sad is ’cause it’s a game in which you can’t survive
your glassless ass has a rash and burn while this pair of two sick inches rot
i should cut your sh-t from ear-to-ear but the underground on their f-cking misery
’cause guaranteed you keep up your no-class charade
you’ll be laughed right out the industry

[chorus: razakel & sicktanick]
oh, oh (yeah!)
we love to make the blood (yeah!) flow, flow (oh!)
from these ugly cross-eyed green fake-haired (oh!) hoes, hoes (yeah!)
’cause they don’t know, they don’t know (okay)
that we the wicked b-tches taking (oh!) sh-t under control (oh!)
oh, oh (yeah!)
dead and six feet (yeah!) deep below, below (oh!)
’cause these stupid b-tches don’t know how (oh!) we roll, how we roll (yeah!)
but now they’ll know, but now they’ll know (okay!)
’cause we write our own lyrics (oh!) and singing the write note (oh!)
[verse 3: smallz one]
hold the f-ck up, something’s definitely wrong
you mean to tell me these b-tches are still carrying on?
i swear i’ve heard them before but they had a different name
oh, that’s right, the sl-t version of kmk
i have never heard jerk music get this out of control
by a walking ad for aids and a loudmouth troll
and you wonder why females are not taken seriously, ’cause sl-ts like this are given the mic and are allowed to spit it freely
get at me b-tches and lets flip this f-cking script
hang you at your own show by your infested droopy guts
i ain’t expecting sh-t, in fact, f-ck, these b-tches made me laugh
the bottom f-cking line, f-ck true high-class

[chorus: razakel & sicktanick]
oh, oh (yeah!)
we love to make the blood (yeah!) flow, flow (oh!)
from these ugly cross-eyed green fake-haired (oh!) hoes, hoes (yeah!)
’cause they don’t know, they don’t know (okay)
that we the wicked b-tches taking (oh!) sh-t under control (oh!)
oh, oh (yeah!)
dead and six feet (yeah!) deep below, below (oh!)
’cause these stupid b-tches don’t know how (oh!) we roll, how we roll (yeah!)
but now they’ll know, but now they’ll know (okay!)
’cause we write our own lyrics (oh!) and singing the write note (oh!)
oh, oh (yeah!)
we love to make the blood (yeah!) flow, flow (oh!)
from these ugly cross-eyed green fake-haired (oh!) hoes, hoes (yeah!)
’cause they don’t know, they don’t know (okay)
that we the wicked b-tches taking (oh!) sh-t under control (oh!)
oh, oh (yeah!)
dead and six feet (yeah!) deep below, below (oh!)
’cause these stupid b-tches don’t know how (oh!) we roll, how we roll (yeah!)
but now they’ll know, but now they’ll know (okay!)
’cause we write our own lyrics (oh!) and singing the write note (oh!)
oh

- the dead girlz

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