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old spice (pretty mother fuckers) - tommy vercettii lyrics

(verse 1; toucan sam)

they making lies about me. like they never knew me
h-ll yeah, toddler gang got f-cking groupies
it’s about to get good like a scary movie
make your -ss have amnesia with the f-cking roofies
rhymes getting cold, flow overload
you can’t stop me n-gga’s. i’m in my f-cking mode
like a room full of whites, i’m the one that glowed
they said i had some haters, you the one they showed
we stacking cakes b-tch, and we getting dough
like time b-tch, i’m always in control
ya’ll n-gga’s sweet, ha, call you cinnamon rolls
doing myself, f-ck them other hoes
i’m bout to get colder, than december snow
i’m the star b-tch, i got the leading role
call me martin lawrence, i’m the black knight
and if i f-ck your b-tch, i’m staying for the night

(verse 2; thecount)

mind in one place, body in another
stop handing all these shots to me, i don’t f-cking bother
i’m still ‘gon take em, take em back and drink em
put the blunt to my face and take it, toddler gang, god forsaken, ahhh
oh that’s taylor gang? f-ck that other bullsh-t
toddler gang, life sentence, coming with that full clip
i’ll take these shots to the head
take all these groupie hoes to my bed
then i’ll pound that p-ssy red
feeding boyfriend with that lead, ahhhh
what’s the matter, cuz?
you know we the sh-t
faded off this beat, ahh, hand me that purple sh-t
coming out the ky, where i hail from
only f-ck with a ho, if her nails done
this a wayne beat, so i know you f-ggots bump it
it don’t matter if i’m making fart noises with a trumpet
ya’ll worship rappers with no talent, ymcmb
we listen to us, asap, and f-cking lil b

(verse 3; tommy vercettii)

it’s young khalifa man

stop playing, i ain’t with that fake sh-t
spitting like a redneck but flowing on my drake sh-t
or i’m on my biggie sh-t, but that’s not a comparison
i go harder then you f-ggots when you look at 8 d-cks
toddler gang good like tha carter number 14
just kidding, b-tch we great, like the staples center court team
they see me pull up, and they hopping on my ding-a-ling
blowing kush that give me motherf-cking bob marley dreams
spending all my money on some swishers and these prost-tutes
but i’m not making rap music for a profit dude
bomb -ss p-ssy, but your f-cking b-tches waffle blue
all you other rappers g-y, like you play a lot of flutes
yeaaaah
pockets on ms wedgewood
flow f-cking clean, do that job like pledge should
rapping f-cking terrible, but better than you could
and my pants off my -ss, like the hook on so hood

- tommy vercettii lyrics

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