Fucking Your Culture Lyrics by $uicideboy$ is latest English song with music also given by Budd Dwyer. Fucking Your Culture song lyrics are written by Aristos Petrou, Scott Arceneaux Jr.
Fucking Your Culture Song Detail
| Song Name: | Fucking Your Culture |
| Singer: | $uicideboy$ |
| Composer: | Budd Dwyer |
| Lyrics by: | Aristos Petrou, Scott Arceneaux Jr. |
| Music Label: | G59 Records |
Fucking Your Culture Lyrics
It’s a smash!
Play-play-play-play-players never doubt
You did good, $lick
It’s that demented mother-fu*ker
I’m kicking it with my brothers
Repping the *59, you know grey the fu*king color
My gat’ screaming, “kill them wetto
Hit them where they lay”
Smoking them like some indo
Let the pistol up and spray
Never could be fu*ked with, my d!Ck
They love to suck it
They calling me game seven slick
I switch a b!Tch like subjects
Pull up continental, make a hoe get sеntimental
I got 18k in dental, balling with no fundamentals
Michaеl jackson off a thriller dose
Hold off on the killer dose
Cooking up in a rental (bam!)
Emeril with the chemical
Gripping on my genitals, northside general
Pull up in that benz, forgis turn it something cynical
Anyway (northside!)
Thinking I’m about to die by anyday (northside)
Half high pass five (northside)
Rolling up that mary jay (northside)
I might drop 30 like
I’m curry (northside) with no nba (northside)
Hop out, eddie murray with the stick (northside)
And let it swing away (northside)
Hot boy turn the block out
P!Mping out the crack house
Macking up on these b!Tches
Flew a hoe to fu*k from krakow
My d!Ck threw her back out, packed
And flew her back out
Been running and gunning and fu*king
All while tripping in a black out
Mane, it’s the killer (north), northside guerilla
Mom and dad both fiends and my ex a pill dealer
(northside)
Tell me who keep it realer?
There’s no drug I ain’t touched
Basquiat your face, and I banksy your place up
Boy aim with your face up
They clowns with no make up
This me before warm ups
I ain’t even laced up
Fu*kboy get your rank up
Robbing and dealing and homicide
Spice one, wetto from the ghetto, I was born to die
Ruby getting up in them gizzards
Neck look like a blizzard
Keeping an eye on these snakes in the grass
So I move just like a lizard
Backwood tastes vanilla, p0pping painkillers
Grip the .45, I feel like the grey gorilla
Chickenheads flocking, they think I’m a quesadilla
Beating up the pu$$y, I must be a lady killer, yeah!
Papa pine, break yo’ spine, rub her cl!T
Likes it’s a vibe
Now she’s asking what’s my sign
So I threw up the *59
I’m the lord of the 7th ward
Pick the lock on heaven’s door
Feel no need to settle scores
Leave pu$$ies red and sore
Never called her back
She breaking down like metalcore
Everybody steals my sauce like
They fiending for peppercoin (7th ward)
Check the score (7th ward)
Grey*59, five and zero in the fourth (7th ward)
What a chore, rolled a blunt so big (7th ward)
We’ll have to light it with a torch (7th ward)
Whip looks like it might’ve lost the second world war
Yah (7th ward)
Ruby such an animal (7th ward)
7th ward dragon, when I breathe it’s fu*king flammable
Keep my click tight and isolated like we cannibals
Spit so many bars you’ll think infinity is tangible
All these fu*king chains
You would think I’m wearing mannacles
Yeah! B!Tch, tell me what’s happening
D!Ck so big, I’ll turn her pu$$y to the grand canyon
All my haters pu$$y, like I keep on smelling salmon
Keep it old school, I might pull up with a cannon
Yeah! B!Tch, tell me what it is
Wake up with a smile, picking out the right fit
O.J. In the morning, like I stabbed a white b!Tch
Every color in the fu*king rainbow, suck my white d!Ck
Wait for a beep, dial 5-9 and hit the pound
Um, okay, so I’ll talk to you later