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hosier - every king must die lyrics
[intro]
oh you motherf-ckers try to pull a j jerk on me
(church, church, church, church)
i’m too smart for that
you thought that you was gonna blind me with all that confusion (can’t f-ckin’ be)
i ran right through that sh-t (30 thousand likes and you ain’t got diss tracks)
you f-ckin’ with somebody come from a different cloth f-ckboys (run to a million)
i’m gonna let it be known on this track (you can’t f-ck with me)
you f-ckin’ with the wrong one, you f-ckin’ with hosier
the midwest outlaw
[verse]
f-ck subliminals, i’m gettin’ straight to the business (church)
you opened up these doors and now i’m here to grease up the hinges (brrahh)
it fits to get relentless, i’m scalpin’ you like a injun (d-mn)
your fans are sick of your b-tchin’, sound like your chick on a mystery you f-ggot
i’m droppin’ bombs it’s atomic, i’m flow with somethin’ bionic
i make you head like some chronic, but you don’t want the smoke
[?] fades, i be at the foot of your stage (what’s up f-ckboys)
you have to face the consequences and the repercussions (that’s right)
you f-cked with one of the dozen that think they doin’ somethin’
cut from a different cloth and you don’t really want it son (you don’t want it)
come for that drama that’s on my mama, i’m bringin’ the wrath
lyrically smashin’ anything that steps in my path
comin’ for your -ss no h-m- (no h-m-)
let me get your girls number so i can be a father on the low low
had her swallow my eggroll, ho got a thing for puerto rican’s
especially ones that look like meth is all they’ve eatin’
i’m gonna hit up big homie, have him [?] the statement
your mama said you couldn’t do the video, your tummy was achin’
real sh-t, straight facts, puttin’ it on straight wax
you woke the monster and i’m hungrier than a motherf-cker (rawr)
your head done blew up and i’m here to press your bubble
may not end your career but lyrically your -ss in trouble
be ridin’ in a scottsdale subbin’ for the church
and i ain’t talkin’ ’bout it, just comin’ for you and i ain’t spittin’ words
what the f-ck was up with your alb-m cover for king of dixie?
lookin’ like justin beiber, wiped yourself with mud to be pretty
losin’ reality and you caused your catastrophe
body baggin’ ’em, red flaggin’ ’em, b-tch you got the green light
plugged in like wifi, you might just catch a drive by
i’m suge knight of this country hick-hop genre
charge your fans 30 bucks just to come and see you
on top of that an extra 25 just to meet and greet you (get real)
you wouldn’t have sh-t if it wasn’t for the fans (naw)
i’ve been on stage jumpin’ on you bustin’ then you give me up
fired me up like we livin’ in the holocaust
go and run and hide ’cause i’m gon’ tan your hide extra fried (d-mn)
nice to be locked up the way i murdered you, homicide
put the nail in the coffin, fill his -ss with formaldehyde (get the hammer)
call me danny glover ’cause i’m spittin’ so lethal
and what’s up with your b-tch, she look like she be off of the needle (hey, can i get a hit?)
she could model for proactive, more b-mps than an 80’s regal
(now that was just uncalled for hosier, that was just pure evil)
let my nuts breath b-tch, get off the tip of my penal (get off of it)
you changed up like bruce jenner, middle finger to little (does it look tucked?)
h-ll one time, you’s the artist bein’ belittled
i used to be different but changed for the better but i bring out the devil
to burn you, spendin’ cremation i’m fixin’ to urn ya (d-mn)
got the heart of mcgregor, even in lyin’ i’m better
heart of steel like a beretta, your dna reads b-tch
i heard cashville raped you, heard he sure doesn’t date you
a circle jerk just lurks somewhere in them backwoods and we know it
guarantee if church whipped out his d-ck he’d get down and emo it
came to your studio, all i heard was church this and church that (f-ckboys)
to the point you had to tell (tom sawyer home, let’s hear what hosier’s been doin’, but church, we’ve been on the road)
sellin’ [?], qualified, certified f-ckboys
late night comin’ to chris kyle you through the microphone
makin’ [?] we ride
ain’t no sneak dissin’ this way f-ck church i’m at your face (church, church)
got him over there feelin’ salty i hope you love the taste (how do you like it?)
say you the king, but took shots at a so called peasant (you ain’t sh-t)
i hope you feelin’ threatened, see me f-ckin’ the game and i got her pregnant
feelin’ embarr-ssed now shoulda k!lled me you arrogant f-ggot
(take that shovel out the back and church, we gotta go bury him)
ha ha
bodybag
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