Bottom Feeders - R.A. The Rugged Man, Smut Peddlers

Let my orange dick spit

I got a dog named Kubrick

It’s obvious I like his flicks

Filming 'em with human chicks

If that’s a sin, let him poke this white bitch Kim

For coke, outside of a bar until I switched in

Breaking her in like new Tims in a robbery

Take a culture of my spit’s culture and spawn a colony

Smell like teen spirit?

Grab a shotgun and feed us

My L.P. street date shaking up Columbine High cheerleaders

Dipping in two seaters, that ain’t mine

So many sick ass letter combinations I paint rhymes

Blew my E.C. advance on a PC and grams

DC and PS2 games, grow lights and plants

Crops done by the time the cops come

Car jacked this pregnant Indian for a Datsun

Blaze a building, to catch a rap magazine

You wanna talk shit and not get fucked up?

That’s a faggot’s dream!

(Yeah, you know how we coming)

With the looters, solicitors, unwanted visitors

Nickel bag misdemeanors, bottom feeders

Moochers, bleeders, breeders and sleepers

Hey yo, I’m just as broke as when I had no deal

I’m not too bright, my brain’s like oatmeal

I used to be label mates with Shaquille O’Neal

Now I get my dick sucked in the Batmobile

I live in Long Island, with a house of retards

And illegal aliens that need green cards

I’m a rap legend to little weird white kids

That carve shit in their arms, like «I don’t wanna live»

I’m the original, dirty, white gangster

Rhymer, perverted rhyme writer

We dirty old men you can’t trust us

See us finger popping your daughters in the back of school buses

Rugged Man, hairy baboon

Catch me at the MTV awards jerking off in the bathroom

Cage, Eon, Mighty Mi, why try?

Remix this shit, put it back out when I die

I’m so depressed, I’m doing whippits for hours

Cause I realize, I’m less popular than «What's Happening Now!!»

was

There are women in pits in my basement

My trophy, Morgana’s tits in a glass encased man

Like my sidekick Gary Heidnik

I’m still banging the Thai chicks plus I’m high bitch

Eon rains, fuck it!

E hurricanes

You a cold front that’s seen on every weather vane

I got a storm more perfect than George Clooney

Thinking y’all scary, y’all ain’t even Goonies

E eases through the scene that’s serene

And drops the illest shit any latrine has ever seen

I have no left or right ventricles

That’s why I laugh when cops pull out with both tentacles

The beast lives among us

And I cause a reaction similar to what seeing your mother hung does