Trials - Hurro lyrics

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Trials - Hurro lyrics

[Sample] Let me say something about language We're discussing s**uality Not everyone is comfortable talking about s** We'll use words you may not be accustomed to But we do this to clarify, not to shock We hope that our openess with permission given for you (Yeah, Hurro) We hope to help you to open the lines of s**ual communication (What's up motherf**ers?) Between you and your partner (What's up b**hes?) [Verse 1: Sesta] Alright listen You're better commit it. The lyricism is insane Then s** a dick vien like Venom leaving em in pain Quit the laying I been sayin I'm feelin like Rick James These fingers itching to get at ya click, face slap! You can't better the rapper that had a speech inpediment Now he's badder then Mike Jack-son with someone's son Getting him drunk, feeling him up Feeling generous? (heh, give him a f**) Yeh I lost it my rap here's still so so Posing in promo photos f**ing h*mos Into chicks over dosing getting close in Then I'm leaving em looser than popes clothing I poke her face with a poker face On the first date talking about your supposed to wait f** that I'm a Funkoar, hopeless waste of space Toast to Sesta, A. Baker the great [Verse 2: Hons] Now we a hard act to follow Ask your girl I got a hard co*k to swallow While I swipe half ya bottle and we back for round 2 So let the speaker sound booth Polute everybody in the club thats around you Me? Mr. E-grade celebrity Who'se sick of dog c*nts that are posing as a pedigree f** them I should open scars Like the Funkoars loose at an open bar And that only rap about tits and arse for sure Cos if a oar in your b**h then that b**h in awe Yeh so check it, this sh**s become too effortless My rhyme books pages rival that of the New Testiment I been charmin since Bush been after Bin Laden Ghetto pimpin in the club with ripped garments And she still cop the stage dick And s** sells thats the reason oars always drop your A-list [Verse 3: Trials] Ay well let me set it straight, then come n twist up the weather vein 24th of the 5th '83 set a date Mr. T's name deep in the streets Beef with me is like a three week lease on your teeth In a few years trust me nothing has changed Besides the fact b**hes never use my government name It's Dan Rankine, god damn f** I'm handsome If the hat leak seed then the skeeze hand standin Women want a piece of the beast, rappers want a piece of the beats And f*ggots want peace in the streets 'Til the cops kick the door, Funkoars Pockets sworn raise hell like Robert Thorne with dumb borns A good man is hard to find Says who? take another look at sister she and there's two How dare you compare you to F-U-N-K oars Southport the soundboard