Bushmaster Music

«The fuck you say now?! Huh?!
Hey! Huh?!
Bam! bam! bam!
Mothafucka I’m strapped!
You don’t fuckin' talk now, huh!?»
I got the AR-15, let me hit his head
Heard us running up inside the crib and then he shit his bed
I ain’t trying to hear nothing cousin give me bread
The only thing inside the duffel bag shrunken heads
That’s how motherfucking grimy we are
You don’t wanna see how motherfucking violent we are
(Yeah!) Or where the motherfucking silencers are
What the Asiatic motherfucking sciences are
I know you saying that this motherfucker curse a lot
I’m just trying to balance out the fact you rock a purse a lot
I heard you suck dick and walk around in skirts a lot
Listen to Kanye West, recite his verse a lot
Pazienza I don’t rock with that soft shit
We juice crew Hilltop hardcore shit
We got the ??? uncut raw shit
To put his motherfucking body in the morgue shit, yeah