Pussy sells records, pussy sells records,
you want a pussy?
Pussy sells records, you want a -
I drink vodka from mason jars,
my savage is so ill
My
Floyd is like vines,
look what you can't touch
L .A.'s on point, all eyes on whisk
Slip soil so small,
P .D .P. of shit
Silver
Lake so hip, the
Floyd's beyond that
My savage is so slick, fitted socks cap
Chicago is home base,
the night is part eight
My savage is ingrained, the
Floyd's my new name
You get the look, you get the rhymes
You get the riches, you get the deeks
Cool deeks, stitters, deeks, deeks,
deeks, deeks, deeks
You wanna rhyme with my little big glitz
All the business, trust, fun, benefit
Never had to work for shit
Pussy sells records
Pussy sells records
You wanna rhyme with my little big glitz
All the business, trust, fun, benefit
Never had to work for shit
Pussy sells records
Pussy sells records
Man, got up and decided to sneak
into the aqua lounge
Everybody lookin' proper,
I was at a lock -up down
Moved through like a ninja,
sidesteppin' ladies
Lookin' like they was born in the mile,
F and
A
Searchin' for a cougar on
the prowl with a classic style
The kinda woman, when you say hi,
she smiles
And says hello,
slides you her number on the low
In a napkin with her lips pressed in it
Clutch bag and dress fitted
to match her demeanor
You shoulda seen her stance,
look like a buffalo
She ain't need no money,
man, but a guy like me
With a high
IQ, who could dance a little bit
With a size 12 shoe
So we moved to the dance floor,
hands on me
Thrust titties in my face like trans or
Z
Tell her my name was
Fro, she put her fingers on my lips and said
Sit with
Sarita and proceeded to my hips
Pussy sells records
Pussy sells records
You want a pussy?
Pussy sells records
You want to rhyme or a limerick?
Glitz or the business?
Trust, farm, benefit
Never had to work for shit
Pussy sells records
Pussy sells records
You want to rhyme or a limerick?
Glitz or the business?
Trust, benefit
Never had to work for shit
Pussy sells records
Pussy sells records
Wintertime
L .A.
Frohawk hoodie print
Me and this girl
Kelly
Deeks off her belly
We need more though
Where the
Fidel go?
We like
Oslo
Cause we got mass flow
Got a brick in my inner pocket
May
Rita's eyes glow
Set set was jet lag
Threw it from
Cairo
Wanted to stay out
Although it was late night
Getty rolled through with
Kelly
And a big jar of snake bite
Yo
Rita looked mad old
And drunk with a sad soul
She was a old toad
In search of a tadpole
Shining like
Deathstroke
Kelly had an orange glow
Must have been too tan or
Septimus
Coltrane
Rita had done it all, two tours in
Nam
At the club so late,
where the hell's
Grandmom?
Kelly had nice tits,
the car you spend nights with
Neck down niceness, chin up, pipe hits
Rita really loved
Billy
Joel, hand tats green old
Looked like she on rolls,
30 year old clothes
And then the clapper goes
And then the clapper goes
And then the clapper goes
You wanna rhyme or a limerick, glitz or the business,
trust, farm, benefit, never had
to work for shit.
Pussy sells records.
Pussy sells records.
You wanna rhyme or a limerick, glitz or the business,
trust, farm, benefit, never had
to work for shit.
Pussy sells records.
Pussy sells records.
Pussy
You