| My mind is in the gutter, rolling down Calhoun
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| Me and Murder One finna pick up a gal soon
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| I shouldn’t fuck with these dope fiend prostitutes
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| But at 3 in the morning they be kind of cute
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| So we picked one up by the
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| Snatched the little chickenhead up and then drove straight
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| The whole ride was just swallows, hollers
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| Hit it so good, heiffer gave me five dollars
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| Realized I shouldn’t move so fast
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| Cause she played Burger King and flame broiled my ass
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| Went to the bathroom, I must be dreaming this
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| Hand grenade, butcher knife, hot grease steaming piss
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| The girl looked good when I done it
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| Saw the freak the next day and I almost vomit
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| My meat is hot and I ain’t smiling
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| Stick my dick in a bun you could sell it at Coney Island
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| So now I got to go to the clinic
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| I got to go to the clinic
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| I got to go to the clinic
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| And get my dang-a-lang fixed
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| My next door neighbour done growed up
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| The thighs, the headlights, the booty done blowed up
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| She can’t never have a steady man
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| Because she hotter than the barbecue sauce at Timmy Chan
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| And you the one that gotta feel silly
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| Cause you stuck your cracker in the wrong bowl of chilli
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| She can get robbed and wouldn’t care
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| Cause if they say, «Stick 'em up!», she’ll put her legs in the air
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| Tryna hideout and keep to yourself, being low-key
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| Tryna diss me, I bet you won’t go pee
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| Check the toilet for a minute
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| Piss was hot enough to fry five skillets of chicken in it
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| Not getting cured is a drastic act
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| You’ll be walking 'round the hood with your shit in a plastic sack
|
| Be careful when you D her
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| I heard the crabs on her cat even caught gonorrhoea
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| So now you to go to the clinic
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| You got to go to the clinic
|
| You got to go to the clinic
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| And get your dang-a-lang fixed
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| Once met a freak who could burn like gas
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| She could give you gonorrhoea just by hugging your ass
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| Goes to the clinic once a month like a career
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| Been burnt so many times her penicillin said, «You again?»
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| Last time she went they made her get out
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| Doctor got mad and quit and said, «You figure this shit out»
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| «I keep rubber, she can’t burn through those»
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| Cos, you better bring about twelve of them hoes
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| Because yo, she ain’t got no self-respect
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| Everybody ought to keep their health in check
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| Because the Big A will fold your ass
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| And I’ll be at the graveyard saying, «I told your ass»
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| That uh you should have went to the clinic
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| You should have went to the clinic
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| You should have went to the clinic
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| And got your dang-a-lang fixed |