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cool brandon - 1000 words lyrics
really words are the only aphrodisiac
writtens getting women finished in a minute
like they’re made of easy mac
a piece of cr-p who’s talking sh-t
i need these raps, i’m not legit
the opposite is more precise
provocative with what i write
p-ssing blacks and rapping dude
with half and half add kaluha
screw a cougar, where’s the cap
i’m a sick emcee and a hypochondriac
waiting for these ladies to go call me back
driving a mercedes, sipping conac
actually, just plastic bottles in my lap
not in a mercedes in a pontiac
while none of my friends say where the party’s at…
i’m like if van dam drove a grand am
i’m a clean kid with a dirtstache
i’m a kansan wearing burlap
i am brandon with the nerdrap
have you heard that can you hear this?
even amputees could feel this
but i cut them off again and steal this
i f-ck with jokes and am funny in bed
i’m better at rapping but better off dead
most of my words they should never be said
should be left in a desk kept under the bed
i’m gimmicky and i pretend to be
another rapper with the same tendency
to only let sh-t travel through my mouth
like my name was the human centipede
if a picture’s worth a thousand words
my d-ck pics on your camera phone
have enough to fill the world
with negatives and rattled groans
but if you don’t let peace occur
i may make you eat my words
a m-ssacre of nouns and verbs
nibbled on like old h’ordurves
woe is me! i poetry
while kids are smoking potpourri
and choking selves with rosaries
stick to bagging groceries
or they’ll send your -ss on overseas
these f-cking kids like pulling t–th
we should have left them rotting inside
of their mother’s ovaries
and i’m the pr-ck for making raps
but suck my d-ck, i’m sick of that
cause while these kids are rolling blunts
and sneaking drugs all during lunch
kids who curse in art are found
to just be a disruptive sound
so keep your words all underground
where they will never go be found
god, i pretend like i’m so profound
when really i rap to get
some p-ssy back, brandon, homeward bound
where my dog’s at? where my dog’s at?
it’s a homeward bound joke where the f-ck my dog’s at?
a picture’s worth a thousand words
you’re saying sh-t i’ve heard before
i’ll beat you to a vegetable and eat you like a herbivore
i’m the kid mama was talking about
and the man that your father had hoped you would be
leaving you home with your c-ck in your mouth
kissing the porcelain under the seat
you misfortunate f-ck, you wish you were me
but i wish i was you, so, ironically
i wish i was me if i wish i was you
so i wish that my wishes could split us in two
so by dissing you i’m dissing myself
which is self-inflicting, i think i need help
but not if i hadn’t had wished someone else
was who i was, i’ll stay by myself
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