Balls Out

Potent is the flow its just wicked sick,
so ho's are those who pounce, bounce slow on the dick
I don't give a shit about celebrity,
but motherfuckers did you happen to see who's here? Me.
The bottom feeder at the top of the food chain,
frontin' from the back of the line on some dude named,
after car parts that as fast as a spark,
hitting gas starts a fire,
gets wire from barbs that cut like a jalepeno popper fart,
burning up an asshole that once ripped apart,
punched hard, but it ain't like I ever cared if I went too far,
I stood just like scars from more clowns bent outta shape than the Cirque du Soleil ever had so though he throws his weight around he still on my shadow in the dark
so doesn't know his girl remarked that I make her
laugh on the inside but I can hear it later
with my dick
as her other cunt gets screwed in the process
I've gotta get hot chicks nude
The payback is coming full circles in this
those turning on those
turning on those bitches
Balls out my life is a slut
this dick don't hit the bottom
but I fuck the sides up
Potent is the flow its just wicked sick
so ho's are those who pounce
bounce slow on the dick
Thanks to you bitches I've got more screams,
than David Arquette's resume.
What that means is my job involves
gettin mobbed like John Gotti,
dressed to kill like I'm Gianni Versace
but I gotta be so when a kid limps back for more in a huff
like that fat kid that had sat out for every gym class dudes who has asthma that wore one correctional shoe but still passed that I swore
I spotted at the smorgasbord sprintin' for seconds that I reckon ain't as sloppy as the leftovers gettin'
me clocked
my blocked cock's pissed
my tryst with this missus
got her panties in a bunch
just like his is
that my face between her legs
because that could be
what convinced this dick getting hard
I'm a pussy
but if that were my name I would've autographed her breasts with motherfucking dollar signs instead of S's