Q!
Guess what?
b#tch I don’t give a f#ck
Hands up
It’s time to see him slumped
Rip his guts
It’s time for lunch
p#ss# boy don’t try me
If you do, you’re fried meat
Shut the f#ck up please
Fly as a dove
Shorty voluptuous
McDonald’s, I’m lovin’ it
Got my fist and I’m sluggin’ it
Causin’ havoc
Ran up wit’ an automatic
b#tch you ain’t ’bout this muthaf#ckin’ action
We gon’ tear him limb from limb
Got him shakin’ like he had Parkinson’s
Sent them hollow tips
We gon’ slit his wrists
It don’t make no sense
And I know a couple people that’ll kill for a couple cents
The smell of blood, I love that scent
To heaven, that’s where he got sent
Lord forgive me, I’m ’bout to sin
Guess what?
b#tch I don’t give a f#ck
Hands up
It’s time to see him slumped
Rip his guts
It’s time for lunch
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Lotredecim Lyrics – Guess what?