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a1 (special sauce) - sideshow the king lyrics

[intro: tyler, the creator]
i don’t want a bride i just want bone marrow

[verse 1]
i’m a silly little psycho
strangle b-tches, snap their neck bones
they said ‘brian you are loco!’
i said ‘hey, f-ck off you cholo’s’
hang with vato’s up the road though
got them jealous cause my chains gold
in the attic i let the oak grow, b-tch i’m in love with the coco
i’m from the fifth echelon, i make silly b-tches tag along
i like to sing some f-cked up songs about k!lling f-ggots
sing along
you do not understand me, you’re excited for this f-cking drop
i strangle all the b-tches till they’re dead
then i just f-ck ’em raw

[verse 2]
i said i strangle, b-tch, i strangle b-tches
snitches get st-tches, and this is a parody i cl1ck yes
cl1ck your f-cking heals and pray for home
with a plastic gat against your dome
shimmy through the trunks
and then just follow me through the fox holes
b-tch, i’m northwest hitting routes
to dig the nearest ditches for this drought
the panties locked up in my room
so i can smell them when i’m shouting
f-ck the usa!
get paid and bust a nut and throw grenades
hang on, just give me some shade
because i’m about to get laid!

[interlude]
brian’s conscience: brian, what the f-ck you doing?
this is not an anthem
we called you for an anthem
so those kids can put their hands up
brian: b-tch! i am not luke bryan
wearing my little sisters jeans
the only difference in our songs is that mine is anti clean
rap

[verse 3]
make some f-cking noise because this party’s really wack
you got the b-tches on the right
looking like they just smoked crack
you got the b-tches on the left
they look like hookers at a hookah bar
i hit a couple chin ups then i drive your girls car
i say, we go far as f-ck, as you just sit back at home
i mean, i party every weekend cause i think that i am grown
so if your tucks lousy then sit back
i handle b-tches then relax
they l1ck my f-cking b-lls like milk
that’s sitting out for stray cats

[verse 4]
i peeped the rats, i wasn’t racing
i was pacing in the kitchen filling b-tches up with paste
i made with haste
then i shove ’em in the oven where i treat ’em like a rover
then i cut ’em like a barber with a parkinson’s disorder
i’m f-cking special ed, i won’t stop until i am dead
i can’t f-cking stop, i’ll shoot you in your f-cking head
then leave you all to bleed out ’til the carpet color turns red
smoking while i’m k!lling call me ash vs. the evil dead
i said i’m special, i’m f-cking special as f-ck
i’m a1 sauce, and your looking like heinz ketchup
beat you to a pulp, i think this fiction hasn’t had enough
and by enough, i mean we’re dope as f-ck they had a gram
of us

[outro: earl sweatshirt]
this the sh-t that get cripple b-tches to hop…

- sideshow the king lyrics

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