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Chuckie

Artist:Geto Boys  Album:Chuckie  Writer:BUSHWICK BILL  Composer:SHAW RICHARD 

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Verse one: bushwick bill I told you size wasn't shit That's why I murdered your neices Wasn't my fault they found they head cut in 88 pieces Don't let 'em run Hurry up and catch 'em You grab an arm I grab an arm let's pull 'till we stretch 'em Play pussy, get fucked Means you're better off dead I wanna see food so I fished in a child's head Motherfuckers be worried 'cause I'm sick Dead heads and frog legs Mmm... cake mix! Friday the 13th The night of the living dead ? ? ? ? ? ? walkin' 'round givin niggas head If you didn't die, I'd say you got lucky All bodies found dead Fuck it, blame it on chuckie But this is child's play... motherfucka!!! Verse 2: Aw fuck, chuck's on a killin' spree! Gimme some barb and I'll start by killin me! When I murder, I tried to slack off Now 100 missiles blew a little girl's back off My name is chuckie, some say I'm insane You give me some gin, and I might eat a dog's brain! Give me a motherfuckin 15-pack And I'll be damned if I don't bring 15 dead niggas back! A murder contest, You know I'll win it Cause in every mailbox, there be a head with a knife in it I'm gettin hungry I need to be fed I feel like eatin' a bag of barbequed broke legs! Bustin' necks with a motherfuckin' brick! Half my body is chuckie The other half is bushwick A short nigga Always pumpin' some lead Haven't figured out a way to get my fist out your forehead What up Get up Sit up You get lit up


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