BUILDING BLUEPRINT
Next level lyrical insight is a moment away.
Lyrical Analysis of...
9. Addicted to Sex
- Sure i'm harsh, but woman are my fucking kryptonite,
- they get hypothesized, i devote and they feed my lies,
- donno why, maybe it's my eyes, maybe im just blind,
- my ophthalmologists says im fine, well he fucking lied.
- So i picked up the a pair of glasses, poked out the lenses,
- crushed them in my palms and sprinkled the crumbs in his eyes.
- He screamed for a while, so did his hot assistant,
- Who i'm sure he'd been frisking across the desk from a distant.
- She's backed up in a corner crying so i gave her a visit,
- she screams louder as i pull down my zipper rivet
- she screams even louder, so i knocker her outa
- this world when i whipped my dick out, no doubt,
- she wanted it, in and out of her mouth. "uugh so thick"
- In and out her blouse, up skirt, in i plow,
- I must have knocked something outa place, or lose
- because one of her eyes fell, rolled and hit my shoe.
- "WAKE UP!" Shit i feel a snooze, shit it's quarter to two,
- time to scadoo and pick up my son from the zoo.
- What? have you never taken your kid to the zoo?
- I left him for a few minutes whilst i fucked this brude,
- yes im rude, Yeahh im insane, i like to saw open my own skull,
- reveal the brain, poke at it till the lights go dull, then roll,
- on the floor, throw a tantrum till someone gives me some coke
- aine, or morphine... I wake up strapped to a bed with Louis Greene,
- donno why but he seems pretty relaxed to me, bad... good?
- I don't like this scene, all white and clean, so again i'll scream
- till someone sets me free, oh... a nurse with lovely curves,
- oh... with a syringe... is it for me or him?
- cause i don't think i need any more hallucinogens,
- my mind is already fucked, i can't count to ten,
- one... two... three... four... five... six... six... six...
- fuck won't this twitch stop, quick jab me with it!
- Ohh ohh... right there... right there... to the left... up up up
- down, left, right, square. Cheat code! Kill loads with god mode,
- walk through fire with no clothes, too hardcore, got no toes,
- yet i can still balance on a tight rope and cock pole volt over hoes,
- and land flat like the butted toast you drop every morning on your cat,
- leaving it to walk around attracting other cats,
- who lick that pussy like shoes to a fucking door mat.
- About to explode some egg whites, my whisk broke, oh no...
- Rachael Ray's a moaner, her cooking shows have got me a bloating boner
- So stoked, could she lick that spoon any slower? Fuck solar i got a motor,
- Vrimm vrimm, fuck rowing boat i got my roter cock to keep me a fucking float,
- cause theres a hole in this dingy boat... i pulled the string but nope...
- had to blow this shit thing up... my lungs couldn't fucking cope, nope...
- so i found a fat lady who sings, tore out her lungs and made a sack to pump.
- Her intestines where the tube of which the air flew through, notes blew,
- i was stumped... bagpipes out of tune, foot to peddle "THANK FUCK"
- this shit is finally blown up, time to paddle off this island of sad fucks.
By Anonymous
LYRICAL GRADE
RHYME DENSITY
0
RHYME LENGTH
Word Cloud
Profanity
What is a Blueprint?
A blueprint is like a report card for your lyrics. It contains a lyrical breakdown and analysis of all the words, syllables, and rhymes in your song.
Learn More >