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A bottle of jacks got my manager grinnin
Yeah thats me that keeps the turntables spinnin
Im countin cards and I keep on winnin
I know God hates me cuz Im always sinnin
U dont know me blow me ho you wanna get hot
Youll get your ass blown out ****in with the kid rock
Eatin up ya suckers just the same way a beast could
Tearin thru your town like muther ****in clint eastwood
Cuz I be fakin the rhymes that keep ya shakin
Makin a lotta money but dont let me be mistaken
I never thought about climbin up the pop chart
And I dont give a **** u cant buy my tape in k-mart
Give me a choice between soundin like an ass wipe
Or sittin in an alley smokin crack from a glass pipe
But still Id look better than a puppet tryin to get paid
Now check the rhyme as I climb and I co get rude
And send ya runnin playin ***** like ****gy and scoob
Cuz Im the wrong dude to **** with my mouth is mental
And Im a tear **** up like they did in south central
Son of a ***** Im the son of a *****
Nobody ever loved u so youre the son of a ****
Im a product of a young girl top in her class
Youre a product of a ****** who was sellin that ass
And your styles in the past its old and dusty
So from now on Im callin u m.c. crusty
Cuz to face me u must be blitzed or blasted
So now Im gonna drop ya like a hit of acid
And when I rip ya people they might stare
Cuz I got more rhymes than donahues got white hair
An yo buck wont you please be a friend
And tell your mom I wanna **** and Ill pick her up at 10
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