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shane capone - dirty, filthy, rotten, scoundrels lyrics
sh-t
shane capone… the idiotic bizarre
spit in your face
[bizarre]
shut the f-ck up, before your -ss get knocked
it’s hard to talk, with a gun in your mouth
dirty dozen, nuthin but bad news
f-ck a b-tch in the -ss with a rubber hush just used
f-ck the pain, i don’t give a sh-t
tie me up and beat my -ss cheek with hockey sticks
(uh! “you’re sick”) i don’t give a d-mn
smokin crack with michael jackson in the ???? ??? program
blaow, blaow! you hear this loud sound
f-ckin the engineer’s wife while he’s mixin my songs down
walkin up in the elementary, lookin like a bum
watch some kid yell “he’s got a gun!!!”
i’m the shadiest n-gga here to come out the dirty doz
do a song with you and tell people how wack your verse was
(“sh-t’s wack!”) i’m laid back like john forte’
who got a screw driver so me and my girl can have foreplay?
[hook]
we some dirty, filthy, rotten scoundrels
dirty, filthy, rotten scoundrels
dirty, filthy, rotten scoundrels
dirty, filthy, rotten scoundrels
dirtyyyyyy, filthyyyyyy, rottennnn, soundrels
dirtyyyyyy, filthyyyyyy, rottennnn, soundrels
[swift]
we walk around this b-tch triflin’
quick to sock a n-gga while we cypherin’
rubber gloves, black man rifled in my right hands
watchin rappers dash like hyphens
burnin y’all without the tetracycline
i’ma let your set know, i can get drunker than jethro
just to run up on you, and crack you with this ????
smash your vehicle, sn-tch your key and go
you n-ggas think you got somethin to say, let me know
don’t bite your tongue, f-ck it
rappers switch subjects
when i’m steppin in they company, them hoes don’t get budgets
sn-tchin briefcases with your hundreds
packin heat just in case you want it (nope)
bodies in abundance
i have no feelings, tell you the truth – i’m known, b-tch
i’m lettin loose any affiliate you run with
so pack your gun quick (n-gga), cuz i’ma let you know
you ain’t got a bone to pick with me, b-tch i f-ck so
[hush]
ay yo i’m iller than a white rapper usin the word n-gga (what!?)
got a conflict with my d-ck like dirk diggler
became sick in the brain since bugz’s death
whoever did it, i’m a bust a nose, slugs is left
i’m harder than my d-ck when i’m watchin my first p-rn
ill enough to k!ll your wife while she’s havin her first born
leavin the hospital, in a voice just like beavis
screamin “i need some!” while i’m holding up a fetus
spittin the hot sh-t, nick name is godzilla (ugggh!)
natural born, undercover cop k!lla
on the reala, yo, you’re just an enemy
bout to come up missing like a second john kennedy
try to gamble with swift, m-th-f-cka the bet’s on
let shane f-ck your b-tch while bizarre jacks off
hush, i’m crushing rappers while i’m somersaulting backwards
bustin nuts up in your mattresses, says n0body a better rapper
[hook]
[shane capone]
what you motherf-ckaz want, red dots when i pull it
unless your name’s pac, you ain’t shakin 5 bullets
anymore, we hustle for cheddar, cheese, and mayo
quick to hit your city up with more felonies than jayo
we got murder for hire, all it takes is a call
we leave you slumped over in the suburbs like biggie smalls
venomous lyrics, spittin sh-t like pipe bombs
leave your maggot brain, hangin out the frame like esham
we some dirty, filthy
but y’all ain’t feelin this sh-t
we comin’/c-mmin’ sicker than a syphilis d-ck
when we spit, somebody find puff
go tell him we got jennifer hostage
we gon’ rape this little b-tch, ain’t none of y’all stoppin
cuz we raw d-gg-n these b-tches and they -ssh0l- with age
h-ll naw, this ain’t range, but i got pistols on beret
big capone up in this b-tch like the return of the living dead
and have your white born bl–dy sheets and a horse up in your bed
ain’t no freestyle rapper, but i play for bugz without no problem
have you stand around, look and dance, f-cked like dennis rodman
if you didn’t want this m-th-f-ckin rap game twisted
you should have never let detroit listed (m-th-f-cka)
[hook]
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