filthy spitter - sketch the bottom feeder lyrics
before the end of this verse, i’ll bet you gag
with every sin it gets worse, sketch is too bad
it’s not fun anymore, it’s just gross
my fever’s 104 but my blood’s cold
you can pray and try and summon the lord, it won’t help much though
i’ll run in a store and punch folks
i’ve never won an award, i don’t give a f-ck though
i’ve never wanted it more, i must blow
light the skunk with a torch and bask in the dutch smoke
if i’m drunk on the floor, just let the lush ?
a whole bunch of us poor, hopin’ our bucks grow
until i’m chunked in the morgue, i’ll cut throats
disturb ‘em with grotesque rhymes, i’m a filthy spitter
if every person that i met died, i’d still be chipper
i’ll be perfect in my next life, i’m a guilt-free sinner
searching for the next vice that’ll k!ll me quicker
i said i’m searching for the next vice that’ll k!ll me quicker
i already got liquor and cigarettes
now i need somethin’ new
so the death of sketch can really come true
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