Slob on My Nob
Slob on my knob, Like corn on the cob. Check in with me, And do your job. Lay on the bed, And gimme head, Don't have to ask. Don't have to beg. Juicy is my name, Sex is my game. Let's call the boys. Let's run a train. Squeeze on my nuts, Lick on my butt. The natural curly hair, Please don't touch. First find a mate, Second find a place, Third find a bag, To hide the whole face. Real name grover, I said bend over. I started to knock, Then came the odor. Smelt like mush, Shouldn't had a woosh, Told her to stop, And take a doosh Once she did that, I didn't want the cat, So, I bailed out, And never came back. Sucka nigga dicka suck Sucka nigga dicka suck Sucka nigga dicka suck Sucka nigga dicka suck My nigga, D-magic, Said he had to have it. I said just forget it, It's too crappy. Know a little freak, In hollywood, Sucks on dick, Does it real good. She'll give you money. Feel up your tummy, House full of kids. Parents all funny. Once had a doubt, Backyard ground, Hit it from the back, Enjoyed the sound. Name under cover, Always used a rubber, Until I got caught, Fuckin' with her mother She blamed it on me, We fought in the streets. She pulled out a knife, So I had to flee. Call up the boys, Went to her house, Trashed the whole place, Threw the bitch out. Police busted in, "Where the niggas at?" We left just in time, And never came back. Rode through the hood, Wavin' at the freaks. Sniffin' all the rocks. Smokin' all the geeks. Made another stop, Police station, Saw a few cops, Drove by and spayed them. License tag number, A nigga said he saw, Focus all the time, And never get caught.
Written by: JORDAN HOUSTON, PAUL D. BEAUREGARD
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