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Search results for 'bone to pick by those poor bastards' Page #4
Yee yee! We've found 870 lyrics and 117 artists matching bone to pick by those poor bastards.
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Spread out now, Rosie Doctor come cut loose her mama's reins You know playin' blind man's bluff Is a little baby's game You pick up Little Dynamite
cut, nigga what? Pick up your guns now WHAT THE FUCK!?! [Chain Gang Platune] I get the fuck up, your truant lifestyle, let's rough I'm even goin'
niggas poor I open Greenwood and show niggas that we is more Than stickin' green under the beams in momma's wooden floor And I know some secrets that
of what I'm doing next, I'm a stalwart Not one those bastards robbin Baskin Robbins Where my validation for not being part of the problem? They stay
Stretch the leather with a groan I'm out here on my o o own Some days can't pick up the ph ph phone Tryna figure out what's going on Got a lot of houses
Grandmas calling moms telling her she's had it It's type tragic, for years felt like a bastard & every chance I could my moms I would ask her... (Hook -
want to see Bring the kid and carry me Rig it with the closeness Hang my bones. Submitted by Rene GOING BLIND: And I know how it's to be
White rabbits want me buried alive In burning coffins, frozen caskets My voices echoes in the ears of bastards Every type of cop can suck dog dick
rise. Those poor afflicted people of Montgomery Village Fake farmers, straight jezebels, you know the score. Pick up the pieces in the graveyard
of a master You never thought you'd be bodied by a bastard A bachelor who backspin on breakbeats Break necks of broke souls who hate me Hate he? you can't
run in fear One by one they disappear Poor luckless souls, without adieu The friends you've known for years Will suddenly disappear Leaving soulless
run in fear One by one they disappear Poor luckless souls, without adieu The friends you’ve known for years Will suddenly disappear Leaving soulless
life Now it's 2002 my ego is bruised I done sat on every lot with every car that is used They walk by but never pick me they say I'm not reliable I'm
by my side I feel it in my bones Why can't we just get away And make your heart a happy home We should be more than friends I'll fight to the end
Open up your mind, ball up your knuckle bone and start takin care of your own, nigga Everybody's schemin with the nature of a sinner So I look inside
one draft pick smoking chronic bastard This flow I mastered shape mold and crafted Warner Brother Taz'ed it Mailman Malone Jazzed it A fucking classic
Zero Stress (Written by Rizzy RTG & Aaron Issa) Pick the Percocets ('Cets) Icy on ma neck (neck) Hit you with that cheque (cheque) We just ‘bout
the chaos in her heart made her seek the bastard out Pick up your trotter-cases for the chases as she races down the street So she gathered all her trinkets
When I fall down, you pick me up Mend my bones and lift me up Don't know what's coming next But I know that you'll be enough And in every season, in
remains Of people castrated in their prime By bloody paper weapons Fuck, you do it all the time But should some poor bastard scream distaste You'd execute
want to Live in And all the p**sy I want to piss in Ooh My family are poor All those things you saw Pick my call when I call When I smoke I need
be different, because those two were white December nineteenth twenty-seventeen Mac's life would change forever Now the poor kids brain cannot function
But i pick no bone Sweating while I'm sipping soup Bless ma old soul I brought my own bowl We use own gold Now we own debt Use to be comatose by fear
Scarecrow! Commissioned by the will of the people But the oath is a stamp of upheaval As he slices tender cuts of the veal Whilst suckling on fresh
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