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ric - picklebuck كلمات الأغنية

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[verse one: trent holt]
b-tches love me because i’ve got a hairy b-ttcrack
i snort crack
watch p-rn as
kick steve buscemi in his f-cking n-ts-ck
you weed rap?
man, f-ck that
i’m on some pcp
take a hit, dude
and do jiu jitsu with mace windu
a diss just won’t offend me
i hear them and i chop up more powder, dude
and all it does is make me more powerful
when i’m at that liquor store
don’t look at me, i’m shopping b-tch
but when i got the mask on
get down because i’m robbing it
told my parents i was going to rap
they told me, “try it trent!”
they heard my tape
and sent me off to see a psychiatrist
need my medication for psoriasis
it’s getting in my eyes and sh-t
probably going to be dead by the time i finish writing this
it’s lb, nipple gang
f-cking teen t-tan, b-tch
i talk to dead people
and got them to ghost write the sh-t
if you’re scared
don’t be a b-tch
go buy a gun, then
guarantee, when i die
i’m going out like ryan dunn did
ill enough to go up to cher
call her a stupid wh0r-
f-ck her, get her number
then fly away on a unicorn
my brain’s about the size of an acorn
went to bliss and clevy’s and saw them filming a g-y p-rn
my brain’s fried
i’ve got a quarter gone
me and sean are cheech and chong
bong rip
hot-box a porta john
yeah
and don’t mention me like the lord in vain
i’m voldemort and rapping
and he [you] must not be named
i rap on supersonic depressants
you can play my music backwards for illuminatic messages

[hook]
leedle, leedle
picklebuck
(picklebuck!)
leedle, leedle
(leedle!)
picklebuck
(pickle!)
leedle, leedle
(i got a pickle!)
picklebuck
leedle, leedle
lunch bunch
b-tches
lunch bunch
(b-tches!)
lunch bunch
leedle, leedle
picklebuck
(pickle!)
leedle, leedle
lunch bunch
(f-ck.)
sincerely
with a fruit cup

[verse two: trent holt]
dude, what
i keep my sh-t tight, you’re just a loose b-tt
screw guns, save the ammunition just to shoot sl-ts
check my shirts and all you see it cats and kittens
there ain’t nothing at my school
but a bunch of fake -ss b-tches
i’m sick of all you lames that act the same
i guess i’m different
and i’m sick of nagging bosses
b-tching while i’m washing dishes
in school i never said much
too busy plotting red-rum
suburban, swerving, lurking in your closet with a handgun
f-ck everybody else
nipple gang bangs harder
we bless sh-t
your parents banging in your bedroom
i’m not a f-ggot rapper clown
that has to go down town
because he’s too fake
to film his videos on bennet lane
sh-t, might have to attack and rob a b-tch
you have to keep it moving when you have a lack of confidence
it’s ludacris
the bodies in my backyard is numerous
stick my nuts inside my microwave and get a tumor, b-tch
it isn’t humorous
and please, i don’t express exuberance
stab him in his f-cking funny bone
and leave him humorous
it’s do or die
and likely i’ll demise because of suicide
kick a f-cking bucket
because i’m straight up out the sewer pipe
i, go to the produce market
that’s where the girls are
record myself jacking off
and post the sh-t on world star
you got a problem?
you can eat sh-t and die
and you can call me the illest motherf-cker alive
(f-ggot)

[outro]
yeah, (x3)
where the buck shot?
uhh, (x3)
and i’m feeling like the illest motherf-cker alive (x3)
and i…
and i’m feeling like the illest motherf-cker alive (x3)
the illest
b-tches
bye

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