Blow Me Lyrics

Blow Me

A bottle of jack's got my manager grinnin'
yeah that's me that keeps the
turntables spinniN'
I'm countin cards and I keep on winnin'
I know God
hates me cuz I'm always sinnin'
U don't know me blow me ho you wanna get
hot
you'll get your ass blown out fuckin with the Kid Rock
Eatin up ya
suckers just the same way a beast could
tearin thru your town like muther
fuckin Clint Eastwood
Cuz I be fakin the rhymes that keep ya
shakin'
makin a lotta money but don't let me be mistaken
I never thought
about climbin up the pop chart
and I don't give a fuck u can't buy my tape
in K-Mart
Give me a choice between soundin like an ass wipe
or sittin in
an alley smokin crack from a glass pipe
I'd be as skinny as a junkie with
the AIDS plague
but still I'd look better than a puppet tryin to get
paid
Now check the rhyme as i climb and I co get rude
and send ya runnin'
playin' pussy like Shaggy and Scoob
Cuz I'm the wrong dude to fuck with my
mouth is mental
and I'm a tear shit up like they did in South Central
Son
of a bitch I'm the son of a bitch
nobody ever loved u so you're the son of a
dick
I'm a product of a young girl top in her class
you're a product of a
hooker who was sellin that ass
And your styles in the past it's old and
dusty
so from now on I'm callin u M.C. Crusty
Cuz to face me u must be
blitzed or blasted
so now I'm gonna drop ya like a hit of acid
And when I
rip ya people they might stare
cuz I got more rhymes than Donahue's got
white hair
An yo buck won't you please be a friend
And tell your mom I
wanna fuck and I'll pick her up at 10