Seasons of Hell

By Flushing Scotch
Album not known

Flushing Scotch
[Intro]
The motherfuckin' plague bringer
The motherfuckin' plague bringer

[Verse 1]
I started sellin' clothes and coke around that Hot Topic
With pockets full of sidewalk chalk, profits off these narcotics
Givin' this dick to gothic chicks until I'm either exhausted
Or I'm about to fuckin' . . . oh my god, it's blow time
I'm cummin' faster than the Supersonics down to OKC
Droppin' loads in hoes faster than dogs dropped Homie G
Bitches blowin' me to Jodeci
I'm like, “let's bounce,” that bitch is like, “totally”
I fertilize her ovaries
In nine months, kid's my fuckin' groceries

Well pardon me
If you're down for the cause, you best apostrophe (pause)
Cause you got me travellin' back to the Fat of the Land
Where I smack your bitch up just like Prodigy (fuck you hoe)

Fallin' in love then apart
Tearin' the heart out of a bitch, Kano
Off with the gloves, then I punch the bitch out of the car
Tyson, K.O
Trappin' her, fasten her onto the scaffoldin'
Havin' her be my fuckin' target practicin'
Blast her with gallons of cum when I'm dabblin'
In arts and crafts, magic happenin' after it's dark
And after I park
I'm harvestin' parts of her body
And droppin' in for a quick swim like a hammerhead shark
Then it's back to the start
Look at me, look at me, look at me now
Then I Snapchat that

[Hook]
Smash that, slap it with a motherfuckin' hashtag
Trash bag, snatch her gash, and throw it in my backpack
Throwback to Prozac, I'm stashin' cash from Great Depression
Yeah, I stole that, fifty grand from your damn pension plan
Gettin' Kodak, picture perfect plan, I got the upper hand
Roadhouse, you know that, tear your fuckin' throat out
Cognac, I pout that, shootin' down your old ass
Go back, so that's every song I recorded
Or tracks that I thought to be somewhat important

I'm fucking killin' it
This track just got aborted

[Verse 2]
Thin is in, so you know that Flushing be here whippin' ‘em
Gettin' ‘em into dresses that their fat asses ain't fittin' in
It's fuckin' sickenin'
Stickin' my dick in assistin' in
Gettin' these bitches to throw up
Makin' her cough up my kid so he can't grow up (bitch)
Better watch your eyes
Bitch's ribs be pokin' ‘em out
Lookin' like it's Jesus Christ
Who's fuckin' showin' up now
I'm fuckin' chokin' him out
And then I'm throwin' him down
And I'm pullin' out nine-inch switchblades to help his hands hold him out
Then I'm sendin' planes to the places that you trade in, it's goin' down

SCOTCH

[Hook]
Smash that, slap it with a motherfuckin' hashtag
Trash bag, snatch her gash, and throw it in my backpack
Throwback to Prozac, I'm stashin' cash from Great Depression
Yeah, I stole that, fifty grand from your damn pension plan
Gettin' Kodak, picture perfect plan, I got the upper hand
Roadhouse, you know that, tear your fuckin' throat out
Cognac, I pout that, shootin' down your old ass
Go back, so that's every song I recorded

So glad that one day this shit will all be over
Thank you, and I'm sorry . . . fuck
Scotch

[Bridge]
Everythin' is fine, we're all gonna die
Everythin' is fine, we're all gonna die
Everythin' is fine, we're all gonna die
Everythin' is fine, we're all gonna die
Everythin' is fine, we're all gonna die (so fuck it)
Everythin' is fine, we're all gonna die (so fuck it)
Everythin' is fine, we're all gonna die (so fuck it)
Everythin' is fine, we're all gonna die

[Breakdown]
Everythin' is fine, we're all gonna die
Everythin' is fine, we're all gonna die
Everythin' is fine, we're all gonna die
Everythin' is . .

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