French! (feat. Hodgy Beats) E

Got all the black bitches mad 'cause my main Bitch vanilla. She tryna get her groove back like Stella. Grab the umbrella. When it comes to your perception of my shit, I'm Helen Keller. When it comes to the perfection Of my shit, I know you smell the rectum. I'm like a chromosome, I always X 'em. Like Wolverine steps and attackin' a deadly weapon. I'm openin' a church to sell coke and Led Zeppelin and fuck Mary in her ass. Yo, I'm fuckin' Goldilocks up in the forest in Three-bed house eatin' they motherfuckin' porridge. I tell her it's my house, give her a Tour in my basement and keep that bitch locked Up in my storage. Rape her and record it, then edit it with More shit. Octopus and special effect, The wreck, bitches we bangin'. And please never disrespect my set with cannons Hangin' from my necks like it's a motherfuckin' Circus. You little niggas better Check my French Uh, You gettin' money better Check Uh, What time is it, huh? Check my French If you got my shit, You better check my French Check I'm makin' moves Check my French I speak English but Check my French Jehovah on my penis, she checks my French French Bitch I guess I left my dignity up in The cupboard 'cause every girl I'm diggin', When I'm diggin' in her pussy, I'm never usin' A rubber. But fuck it, I guess I gotta Stretch it out like it was Flubber and leave It drippin' green and red like double cheeseburgers. Chewin' on cum like bubblegum from Hubba. This bitch knew dick like Bubba knew Shrek. Yeah. Yo, I'm seventeen, already sniffin' blow. I tell my friends it's asthma every time I Start to itch my throat. I got a new show for MTV, Pimp My Boat, because some bitch said my semen was dirty. That silly ho. The most that they could do is fine me. I'm hiding somewhere where Chris Stokes can't find Me. Oh no, Mr. Stokes, I don't like misters. No, don't tell R. Kelly where my little sister go. You little niggas better Check my French Uh, You gettin' money better Check French Uh, What time is it, huh? Check my French If you got my shit, You better check my French Check French I'm makin' Moves Check my French I speak English but Check My French Jehovah my penis, she checks my French Check my Bitch Yo, you little niggas better Check my French. I got all-stars and you can check my bench. Left Brain, Super Three, creative ace. Put expressions in the music and create the face Of the picture. Punchline figured out? Ah, I get ya. No you don't, nigga, so why don't you go And figure? You seem confused anyway, Pressured enough. You the type to do the choke when the Pressure is up. The pressure is the pump and The pressure is us. Bitches havin' eargasms and the pleasure is us. Niggas wanna B. O. F. And write letters to us. Competition's competition, yo, you better than us? Digest what I'm sayin'. I don't think so. It's sick shit, throw it up, down in the Sink. Yo, the Odd niggas are beginnin' to spill These pink toes. We think sorta odd, so we think so. Cruisin' in my go-kart at Walmart sellin' cupcakes. Go 'head, admit it, faggot, this shit is tighter Than butt rape. That involved bar park franks and silver duct tape. Porno, some hormones, and boxes of DiGiorno. You homos loco, you probably drinkin' Cuervo with Some vatos with the dorcos watchin' Zorro, You homos. O. F. So are you dating anyone right now? You know. No. Just playin' the field right now. Uh-huh. So I'm guessin' she's white since she's a Vanilla.