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Battle To Spec
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Penis must be ............................................................................................................................................................. long to peep
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Song Info
Charts
Peak #3,654
Peak in subgenre #268
Uploaded
May 31, 2006
Track Files
MP3
MP3 2.8 MB 128 kbps 3:02
Lyrics
Listen real quick, I’m tell you bout this bitch, Belts loops is the only thing that’s hanging from his hips, And if he got the clips it’s gone be for his money, Wait he ain’t got none, I’m just trying to be funny, Man I’ll treat you like aerobics how I stretch ya ass out, I’ll shake ya ass up and etch-a-sketch ya ass out, And if you talking out ass I’ll take ya wreckless ass out, Say you push by the ounce, like bad checks you get bounced, And if he had next, like bad sex he never came, You fuckin the heavys and you in the feathers mayne, You bout call me to Daddy like when Puff horny, This bitch just a Spec he ain’t big enough for me, His flow disappointing, so the belt I’mma hoist, You sound twelve sampling Mcully Coulkins Voice, You gone die by ya guns if you fucking with moist, When you starving like Ghandi, this one ain’t ya choice. You should try something, it called riding the beat, If you married to the game, you the bride of the street, Wade and Shaq hostages, if you hiding the heat, And when you saw my myspace you was trying to meet. You little bitch motha fucka, all I do is make hits, Now my toilet won’t flush, I ain’t taking ya shit, My songs stay rare more than natures eclipse, And you Achilles tendon how you ache in the kicks, When you claim about breaking the bricks, But really ya weights ass like it’s straight to the hips, The only Hood you’ve ever scene is Robin, And like high school flunkies you ain’t testing the problem, And you leech on the bottom I’m on top ripping this, Heard you in the coupe, but its cleaning up chicken shit, Whos the champ man, theres no question here, When I check this bitch up like a questionnaire. Now let me bring it back just to put it in perspective, If you’ve seen a cell it came with a text message, This ain’t the election but I’m taking the votes, It’s like I’m selling you dope how I’m raping ya hopes. And you can catch me on ya corner palming, Prolly drunk from last night, trying not to vomit, If Spec ever scrambled, its was prolly an omelette, Cuz when he skating wit trays its working at Sonic.
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