Lyrics:
Eatin' beans from a can, down on Forty foot road.
Bloody Ridge took a hand while he tried to reload. In the hills just north of the 38th parallel.
He
I'm a fucking monster
A decoration of flaws
I got forty foot fangs
And scimitar claws
I spit piss shit puke poison
And everyone in the splash zone
on my head
Dollars float around then you wanna act a friend
Taking molly
Don't be sorry
If I end up dead
40 foot dagger
Go ahead and stab her
Grandma in
forty foot Ceilings
Now a nigga standing under forty Foot ceilings
Trust, you don't know the feeling
I remember they said I wouldn't be Nun
Now I got them
do this when I'm forty
Five foot three I call her shorty
Said she never met no man before me
But this hustle is temporary
I don't wanna do this when
and twenty lamps for the roof
Fifty toone plus and forty foot behind
Twenty four seven on the O 19
And baby I'm coming back to you
Oh slip the clutch
ever raised was us
Dug a forty foot well struck thirty-six gallons of dust
Salvation Army gave us clothes to wear a man from the county came to cut our
roll the dice.
Feel me? Scared money don't make none.)
Shorty look I know my ego looking forty foot.
Big chain and not talking bout the naughty
sweet
Besides, you ever see a bear with forty-foot feet?
A dragon?
No scorch marks
Usually they're linked
Manticore?
Imaginary
Griffin?
Extinct
I drive a broke down rig on "may-pop" tires
Forty foot of overload
A lot of people say that I'm crazy
Because I don't know how to take it slow
I
I drive a broke down rig on "may-pop" tires
Forty foot of overload
A lot of people say that I'm crazy
Because I don't know how to take it slow
I
beautiful and the wind started to blow
That ember hit the hayloft and I watched the sucker go
It didn't take long at all, those forty foot flames
I
The skies are charcoal gray
It's a dreary downtown day
But
At the end of my forty-foot leash
Is my little friend
Quiche
Quiche La Poodle
Is
The skies are charcoal gray
It's a dreary downtown day
But
At the end of my forty-foot leash
Is my little friend
Quiche
Quiche La Poodle
Is
but all he ever raised was us
Dug a forty foot well struck thirty-six gallons of dust
Salvation Army give us clothes to wear a man from the county
forty foot Donzie
You got a Bentley Wow
I got jets with wet bars
And trucks with gold plows
Bitch bow when I pimp through
For the Kid, the Rock
forty foot Donzie
You got a Bentley Wow
I got jets with wet bars
And trucks with gold plows
Bitch bow when I pimp through
For the Kid, the Rock
I want to be the one sittin' next to you
On your mama's front porch swing
Feel like the guy that gets the girl
On a forty-foot silver screen
I
but all he ever raised was us
Dug a forty foot well struck thirty-six gallons of dust
Salvation Army give us clothes to wear
A man from the county
of the hole
I'm goin' to maine on a forty foot crane
I'm gonna use it for a fishin' pole
Repeat chorus
Old sarah brown sells tickets down
At the all night
A 10-36 goes tick-tock-tick."
And that's what I call ratchetjaw!
Gotta git ya a base, out there at yer place
With a forty-foot pole on the chimney
With
No dissent allowed at all
A forty foot golden idol
Not your place
I'll never bow down to the power state
Death will not dominate
The fighters
in my featherless, sagging, saffron wings,
i dance
my Phoenician, waterlogged, orchestrated and forty foot wings
wave in the air
i am drunk laying
around my attitude,
Take a walk with me with your triple double Ds and your 40 foot do,
Why you walkin' funny you must have spent some time with the boys
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