A Bottle Of Jack's Got My Manager Grinnin' Yeah That's Me That Keeps The Turntables Spinnin' I'm Countin Cards And I Keep On Winnin' I Know God Hates Me Cuz I'm Always Sinnin' U Don't Know Me Blow Me Ho You Wanna Get Hot You'll Get Your Ass Blown Out Fuckin With The Kid Rock Eatin Up Ya Suckers Just The Same Way A Beast Could Tearin Thru Your Town Like Muther Fuckin Clint Eastwood Cuz I Be Fakin The Rhymes That Keep Ya Shakin' Makin A Lotta Money But Don't Let Me Be Mistaken I Never Thought About Climbin Up The Pop Chart And I Don't Give A Fuck U Can't Buy My Tape In K-mart Give Me A Choice Between Soundin Like An Ass Wipe Or Sittin In An Alley Smokin Crack From A Glass Pipe I'd Be As Skinny As A Junkie With The Aids Plague But Still I'd Look Better Than A Puppet Tryin To Get Paid Now Check The Rhyme As I Climb And I Co Get Rude And Send Ya Runnin' Playin' Pussy Like Shaggy And Scoob Cuz I'm The Wrong Dude To Fuck With My Mouth Is Mental And I'm A Tear Shit Up Like They Did In South Central Son Of A Bitch I'm The Son Of A Bitch Nobody Ever Loved U So You're The Son Of A Dick I'm A Product Of A Young Girl Top In Her Class You're A Product Of A Hooker Who Was Sellin That Ass And Your Styles In The Past It's Old And Dusty So From Now On I'm Callin U M.c. Crusty Cuz To Face Me U Must Be Blitzed Or Blasted So Now I'm Gonna Drop Ya Like A Hit Of Acid And When I Rip Ya People They Might Stare Cuz I Got More Rhymes Than Donahue's Got White Hair An Yo Buck Won't You Please Be A Friend And Tell Your Mom I Wanna Fuck And I'll Pick Her Up At 10
