BEAT MEAT - MCG Groove

I like clappin' cheeks
Discrete
When I roll up, Tesla
Fuckin' on a bitch named Esther
You best step back lil youngin' or I'll bop ya
Pickin' on my nostrils
Chillin' in my helicopter
Whir

I blur the line between based and cringe
Spitting fire, that's why my hair is singed
Minge is plentiful
The Centrelink queue's full
So I'm sitting in silk
My milk
Sprays the face of your dear brother
Another
Rube couldn't dare try
Such crudeness
The loosest cunt
Since that chick with octuplets
Fuck it's
BEAT MEAT

The Admiral, Monk and Rogue
I punch loads
Down the throats of widowers and divorcees
My horse neighs as I ride into the sunset
Your son gets off
To the thought of my rump
It's disturbing
I'm high as Sandy Irvine
I'm serving
Coked out bisexual goth in the club
Mo matter how many lines I flub
You're still vibing
Rackin' Vyvanse off the back of
Inland taipans

My plan involves nitroglycerin
A thirty-five year old vixen's tits and
Mail order catalogues
I live a travel blogger's life
Just less irritating and more op-shops
Dodging pot-shots from the cops
In Buck Bumble
A humbler man cannot be seen in history
Bitch, it's The
Admiral
Captain Clu$terfuck
Of the SS Muffdiver
Carving a bald eagle with a fine line scriber

Written by:
Sudarshan Harrison

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find