Stuck in the mud.
• Written by Wolfpack
(Verse starts at 0:27 of beat track)
My eyes are barely open, but I'll start, this off hey
It doesn't even matter, I'll still keep, 'em at bay
I'm throwing fruit at dudes, that appear, to be gay
So they can pick it up, and just hide, it away
Right up in their ass crack, such a fash-ionable way
Setting another trend, for you, and then Ray
So you can touch each other, for the rest, of the day
Maybe a while longer, or 'till your hair, turns grey
Looking like some pigs, that are stuck, in the mud
Singing to each other, you're both, so full of love
Looking at each other, as you contin-ue to rub
Cum all on each other, right in front, of ya mum
She touches herself too, with the stem, of a bud
Sliding it all around, and all o-ver her cunt
It's okay though man, she's still, number one
She's always been a treat, yeah, a bag of fun
Always playing with me, as I point, at her my gun
She's dressed up in a costume, to look, just like a nun
She touches me and I laugh, until a quar-ter past one
She's down on her knees, and star-ing at the sun
Over my shoulder as I bust open, her cranium
And start pickin' her brains, to put in with, my rum
A delicatessen that I find, to be quite yum
Just as you much as you, seem to love, drinkin' cum
Sick, sadistic and a little er-ratic, I'm told
But I'm just keeping things, oper-atic and bold
It's not like me to just start up, and then to, just fold
I'll follow it through and, break o-pen every mold
Keeping it dark, twisted, sin-ister and cold
Stab you with my words, don't matter how young, or old
Try to dance with me and, you will fuck-in' get told
To take a big step back, and grab a fuck-in' hold
Or a grip on reality, 'fore your neck, gets broke
I'll steal your fuckin' bike, and stab, ya with a spoke
Right into the lungs, 'till your blood, curdles and chokes
You into the grave, you know, this ain't no joke
For me to behave in a way, that scares all the folks
Runnin' out the retirement home, and o-ver the moat
Racin' every cunt there, to get, onto a boat
That I've punched holes in, so the su-cker won't float
Here I come now bitches, and I'm wea-ring my crown
Throwing bullets at 'em all, 'till my am-mo runs out
Picking up pinecones now, to contin-ue this round
Launching 'em at people, without mak-in' a sound
Missing every shot, and just hit-ting the ground
Looking for a back up now so, I re-lease the hounds
They're killing everyone and, ma-king a mound
Of ancient burial that, will ne-ver be found
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About the Artist
Wolfpack
Member since May 20 2015