inside the cock - lil corpse lyrics
(intro)
yo, yo, yung c-ck, back again, but this time, we goin “inside” the c-ck
(verse)
yung c-ck was summoned
now, all of a sudden i’m b-tt-f-ckin’ my cousin
stuck my b-tt in the oven, yup, f-ck it, it’s nothin’
jumped in, humpin’ a dozen m-ffins
microwave my d-ck and hit the popcorn b-tton (pop, pop, pop)
put my b-lls in a blender
flipped my f-ckin’ gender
matched with slenderman on tinder, raped him with a fender bender
ran through the city center wearin’ nothin’ but suspenders in the middle of december, screamin’ “i surrender”
a smoker and a dipper (yeah)
part time stripper (yeah)
daily acid tripper and a everclear sipper (yeah)
if i’m a racist how come i don’t even own the clippers?
ow. my d-ck’s caught in my zipper
tryin’ to m-st-rbate with scissors while i’m lookin’ at my sisters
f-ck, (where you goin’?) now the whole party stopped
when i was two years old i raped a couple barbie dolls
now they’re locked up in my closet with steve harvey’s b-lls
jerkin’ off in a parkin’ lot, i fart a lot
i’m like a pizza roll, only partly hot (sofa!)
my heart so cold that my car won’t start
it’s snowin’ and the weatherman’s on the dot
i scored some interviews ’bout my political views
seemed a little confused when i mentioned the jews
hitler didn’t do sh-t, it was all ted cruz (ah..)
fox news kicked me out, i don’t think they were amused
so i hopped on a cruise, k!lled the captain in his cabin
took the wheel and smoked a blunt then i started f-ckin’ rappin’
drunk drove a cruise ship, must’ve had a gallon
put that b-tch in hyperspeed, like the millennium falcon (han dies)
i want a yellow b-tch, like the bed that i’m wettin’
play “the rains of castamere” at my own weddin’
unleashed armageddon on everyone in heaven
talked to god myself and sh-t, he said he’s into pegging
gettin extra flirty with janette mccurdy, you’re curvy, i’m thirsty, you’re perfection girly, don’t worry, no hurry, your affection’s worthy, and surely, i got herpes, even my protection’s dirty
i’ll be flexing st-rdy, let’s have s-x in jersey ’til your neck is hurtin’ you done? s-x is ’bout the destination not the journey, it’s fun
sittin’ in my math cl-ss (math cl-ss) jerkin’ off p-ssed the test
beat my teacher’s f-ckin -ss until he gave me an f
(i didn’t even try i just guessed)
microwaved my d-ck again, call me a chef (chef!)
most of it’s gone, only twelve inches left
say a bunch of bullsh-t in the mic call me a ref
then i listened to my own raps ’til i went deaf
my parents always said that it’s polite to knock
so i knocked a b-tch up right behind the block
then i told her “yo, help”, i need to find a rock
so i can hit my d-ck and find out what’s inside the c-ck
(outro)
part 1
that’s all for tonight folks, tune in next time to find out what else is “inside the c-ck”, and there’s a lot of sh-t in there…and i mean a lot
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