Blow Me - Kid Rock

A bottle of jack's got my manager grinnin'
yeah that's me that keeps the turntables spinniN'
I'm countin cards and I keep on winnin'
I know God hates me cuz I'm always sinnin'
U don't know me blow me ho you wanna get hot
you'll get your ass blown out f_ckin with the Kid Rock
Eatin up ya s_ckers just the same way a beast could
tearin thru your town like muther f_ckin Clint Eastwood
Cuz I be fakin the rhymes that keep ya shakin'
makin a lotta money but don't let me be mistaken
I never thought about climbin up the pop chart
and I don't give a f_ck u can't buy my tape in K-Mart
Give me a choice between soundin like an ass wipe
or sittin in an alley smokin crack from a glass pipe
I'd be as skinny as a junkie with the AIDS plague
but still I'd look better than a puppet tryin to get paid
Now check the rhyme as i climb and I co get rude
and send ya runnin' playin' p_ssy like Shaggy and Scoob
Cuz I'm the wrong dude to f_ck with my mouth is mental
and I'm a tear sh_t up like they did in South Central
Son of a b_tch I'm the son of a b_tch
nobody ever loved u so you're the son of a d_ck
I'm a product of a young girl top in her class
you're a product of a hooker who was sellin that ass
And your styles in the past it's old and dusty
so from now on I'm callin u M.C. Crusty
Cuz to face me u must be blitzed or blasted
so now I'm gonna drop ya like a hit of acid
And when I rip ya people they might stare
cuz I got more rhymes than Donahue's got white hair
An yo buck won't you please be a friend
And tell your mom I wanna f_ck and I'll pick her up at 10

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