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intermitten fasting - esham lyrics

[verse 1]
i f*cked a lot of p*rno hoes like b. pumper
my name known around the world ’cause i’m a jumper
don’t wanna throw my sideways, i got the dumper
my pockets stay all fat like a ba*dunka*dunka
the truck i rolled in kind of looked like a tonka
i toke the chocolate thai then i smoke willa wonka
i never liked the way you flowed, you should be sunken
i’m diabetic, you n*ggas sweet, i call you pumpkin
you wack rap n*ggas be chokin’ like tim duncan
i’m out here on the come up for real and i’m tryin’ to function
the big wicked witch, and you n*ggas is just the munchkins
i’ll send something hot your way and have you croakin’

[verse 2]
i was born with it, you n*ggas just bought style
esham the unholy wicked rough child
how you like me now? still rock 7 mile
watch my money pile, hip hop dead ’cause he livin’ fowl
mama was a junkie, daddy was a dope dealer
the two of them f*ckin’ around birthed a k!ller
man, i’m sick, man i’m f*ckin’ sick, son of a b*tch
i’m a sun of a gun, load the clip and stay off my d*ck
ever since i came out, you was on my p*n*s
my jimmy so long that it stretch from earth to venus
flytrap with the fly rappin’ i’m a g*nius
hoes take off their clothes ’cause i’m looking like the cleaners
man, it’s hard to come from nothin’ and have somethin’ plus to keep it
what i got up in my pocket ain’t no motherf*ckin’ secret
you reap what you sow, and you sowin’ what you reapin’
i try to wake the dead, but these n*ggas keep on sleepin’
the meek shape inherit the earth, but they ain’t speakin’
the cat must got they tongue, i feel like a wicked deacon
all these r&b singers sing about is freakin’
i wanna put a hole in they head and leave ’em leakin’
*gunshot*
[interlude]
(die!) n*ggas dying in dirty rooms
(die! die, die, die, die, die!)
even learned how to die in mansions now
big office buildings, fancy dying
n*ggas love dying
(die! die, die, die, die, die!)
build big funeral homes so dead n*gga undertakers
get rich burying dying n*ggas
die, n*gga! n*ggas always tryin’ to die, n*ggas get shot
(die! die, die, die, die, die!)
die, n*gga! n*ggas get hung
die, n*gga! n*ggas get lynched
(die! die, die, die, die, die!)
die, n*gga!

[verse 3]
i was all about ferraris, lamborghinis as a teeny bopper
now i’m in the leer jets, private planes and helicopters
hundred round choppers, write prescriptions like a doctor
you know i’m coming through with the cannons like chewbacca
my home in bermuda, my little homie is the shooter
i run bolivia game, i pull up with a cougar
i still live a trill life, ill in my real life
i’m ill in my real life

- esham lyrics

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