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    Smut Peddlers / Lyrics

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    "Medicated Minutes" Lyrics

    Smut Peddlers

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    Duration:00:06:44
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    Lyrics

    I stalk down the block, grabbin' my jock
    Scratch cocks while I dot for my red light stop
    Dead right, Hobbes, I write rhymes for a livin'
    Hid my misgivings, from my brain, was still missin'

    Read an' study while my boots' muddy
    So fuckin' filthy, an Avirex butters look bummy
    Think out loud 'cause I'm allowed to stage dive in a crowd
    Of cannibals about to spit across my eyebrow

    Now God blessed me with abnormal tendencies
    Granted clemency for illegal chemistry
    Ain't worth your weight in molecular structure
    Out of work like JFK Jr.'s flight instructor

    Went lookin' for exits an' tried to get my head fixed
    Slept with a perforated picture of Jimi Hendrix
    See in these days, Cage is like 54 ways
    To get my fuckin' money, mega seedless to blaze

    Sluts, gimmicks, ducks, you finished
    This is dedicated for those medicated minutes
    Fuck image, we stuck on spinach
    In a second, you'll be checkin' into fuckin' smut clinics

    Like sluts, gimmicks, ducks, you finished
    This is dedicated for those medicated minutes
    Fuck image, we stuck on spinach
    In a second, you'll be checkin' into fuckin' smut clinics

    I ran up in a whack open mic cafe on stage
    So many biters, I performed in a shark cage
    In dark shades durin' the Central Park raids
    I walked out with a book of paper an' a bag of beige

    Friends, the camera lens is behind the shoelace
    Get more upskirts than women [Incomprehensible] for your face
    I'm fresh out the box like newborns
    The chicken played with my monkey, now we makin' zoo porn

    Now MC's the Anti-Christ like Damien thorn
    Eric the Pascal, land so feel the scorn
    The old man, illest showman, my moldin'
    With logic equal to fifteen Vulcans

    An' I'm soakin', face lookin' blank
    Shoot this little kid up with horse tranq'
    An' send him to the bank
    With a 'Give me the funds' note, clip's missin' from the gun
    If he gets slapped, then fuck it all, I'll split it with my dunns

    I shit on crumbs, got a couple thousand sons
    That all shoulda been wiped off some jugs or cloggin' lungs
    Every time I dabble, watch my life unravel
    Did I miss an exit to the road less traveled?

    Transmit from the depths of the deepest basement
    Through the pavement, up into spaceships
    Death Star creator, I orbit track wars
    My appeal spans Rhodes scholars to slack jaws

    Sluts, gimmicks, ducks, you finished
    This is dedicated for those medicated minutes
    Fuck image, we stuck on spinach
    In a second, you'll be checkin' into fuckin' smut clinics

    Like sluts, gimmicks, ducks, you finished
    This is dedicated for those medicated minutes
    Fuck image, we stuck on spinach
    In a second, you'll be checkin' into fuckin' smut clinics

    Yo, a peddler show, include a few heathens
    From Hoth to Tatooine, you choose the season
    Dialect for all these crews an' legions
    A walkin' contradiction like, 'Jews for Jesus'

    I spit how the earth taste an' pass forms out of place
    Galvanize my face an' kill for breathin' space
    Nobody to trace, open the trunk like the case
    Light the L off of your body an' sweeped you in the face

    Yeah, I seen old timers became semi-thugs
    I got more dizzy spells than Reginald Denny does
    Cranium blower, Shea Stadium goer
    Hydro cultivator turned uranium grower

    I'm the smut chancellor, got vagina slippers for the floor
    Show you an' that slut you call 'Wifey', hardcore
    While I burn off the lips, stacked to evolve from
    I'm down to shoot [Incomprehensible] fucks
    'Cause I canceled their cause

    Sluts, gimmicks, ducks, you finished
    This is dedicated for those medicated minutes
    Fuck image, we stuck on spinach
    In a second, you'll be checkin' into fuckin' smut clinics

    Like sluts, gimmicks, ducks, you finished
    This is dedicated for those medicated minutes
    Fuck image, we stuck on spinach
    In a second, you'll be checkin' into fuckin' smut clinics

    In a second, you'll be checkin' into fuckin' smut clinics
    In a second, you'll be checkin' into fuckin' smut clinics
    This song was submitted on March 30th, 2011 and last modified on October 18th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Peermusic Publishing.
    Written by Christian Palko, Erik Meltzer, Milo Berger.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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