Burn my eyelids off
Smoke a pack of losers
f#ck bozo, f#ck bozo, f#ck bozo
Little dumbass speaking in Spanish looks like Frozone
I could snap you like a twig, little boy
Uh, pu- punch your grandma up, smack her
Knock your dog out, my arms hurt
I’m sure you suck at aiming
Painting stripped, buck naked in the whip
I’ll stick a shiv in your neck and watch exsanguination
Blasian man smoking weed in the cemetery hating racists
I hate racists, burn them at the stake, now sing my praise
I cook you so thoroughly, there is no flavor, when I bite in – it’s rage
Where are the spices? Place them over my head and let them hover
Twenty halos of nutmeg around me, come swallow and trip your mother
Dicked another man down last night like he had a shot back
Shot from the back of a pickup truck with a turret and smoke that bombastic pack
f#ck bozo, f#ck bozo, f#ck bozo, f#ck bozo, f#ck bozo
Repeat the phrase until I’m delusional and freaking about a f#cking photo
I could flip sh#t on any weird f#ck basking in my absence
You must mask up, mic up, and climb up on the stage on acid before I talk to you
Get up here and suck this bozo stick
Your job is to not get caught r#mming an old man
My job is to catch you doing it and slap your hands
The police are raiding and invading and pacing around and raping and pillaging like Jesus in the Bible, I’m begging for the fetus
Death, death, f#ck bozo, f#ck bozo, f#ck bozo, f#ck bozo
Smoke a pack about that dead and puckered lips h#mo
Broken arm syndrome in seven minutes, you find dumb wh#re disease rampant
Shut up, little boy, I want to watch Family Guy
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