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ew mcnasty - spectacular diagnostics lyrics

[verse: vic spencer]
uh
vic spencer
nasty mcnasty
(vic spencer)
imagine bringing a pistol in church
you about to be in a sh*tful of hurt
a whole pot full of mucus
spread it on top of the rice
and make my chinese friend fry it all with the sprite
i got no feeling like a fat couple humping in a car with no mileage
vic jumping over vehicles
unbelievable guns up beneath your nose
i don’t need the flow, it’s a sport called head lumping
the adventures of vic spencer
i hang out with made up friends like big mitch and
hoes, hoes, hoes like triple h
trippy cake
dirty like a hippy’s face, penny weight
throw some sick ass sh*t at you
like balloons filled with maggot infected milk while you was in your quilt
you the type to go to bed in silk
my last name mcnasty, first name is ew
i think my low was born in the alley
in between mozart and california while my mommy and daddy was boning
i was in his nut sack shooting cr*ps
different color bandana on my head n*ggas laugh
but i bust out thinking i can be the best rapper alive
the same name its just me in disguise
i don’t support the sh*t
i get ugly over chores and sh*t
rappers be sucking h*lla d*ck put a fork in it
on my way to the fire house
because i had water, he said he was harder
so i put him out
n*ggas flow not r*t*rded, i heard your sh*t and farted
then parted ways from the conversation
i seen garbage that was fresher than you and i ain’t insinuating
b*tches like to drink yellow its urination
r kelly bars
you is not on my level dealership mail me cars
i don’t give a f*ck like a virgin
swerving in suburban like crack said
came through popping sh*t like black heads
i act dead when i saw a b*tch i used to f*ck with
camouflaged with sh*t that was in front of me
watching bae, watching 3d thinking they run to me
told my brothers load the gun for me
i mop the floor with vodka
so i can inhale the smell with ganja and we still conscious
now i want some sweet p*ssy
i don’t like skinless fish
i like f*cking with the bushes
i fish for the camel toe
a frozen beverage up in the desert
throat dry from rapping sixty bars [?]
[?] you a c*ck buffing fatty thug
n*ggas smoke just to make their voice raspier
and the end result sh*t is not adding up
glad its f*cked that it’s you
dead rappers stack them up
ew
[outro]
that’s why they don’t want me to like be in rap
i mean
cause the aura stank
its unfamiliar
nasty on my jersey b*tch
hookshot ho
(i don’t know why we’re bothering to save him)
(filthy humans)

- spectacular diagnostics lyrics

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