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Jesse Rutherford – Gun Song lyrics
[Verse 1]
Look, uh, mixtape sticking in your head like some Riptape
For shit's sake, one come and go, that's to get cake
We all struggle just the same with a dead core
I just refused to not thinkin' that shit is sad more
People started sleeping on me now like some headboards
Pre-eminent facts that will fuck you like a lead whore
I'm colder than you're fuckin' fridge bitch, get more
You get less neck than Brock Lesnar
Eleanor Rigby is the one I have with me, she's classy and pretty
My old girl is trashy with titties
But I soon perform the action of vaginal smashin' and smashin' but I'd bag it, I don't want the reactions
Plus I come even quicker If I'm sticking it in her
So excited you would think I was a fuckin' beginner
I researched if I had dick sensitivity
It's a bummer how much finishing so quickly can limit me
Even though I've heard my dick as long as a limousine and it always take a minute when I'm gettin' it inbetween
[Chorus]
Blah, blah, blah, I'm so sick
Rap, close cars
Money, bitches on my dick
[Verse 2]
Yo, fuck anything and everything besides this music
Because without it my whole heart is useless
I use it as a weapon, as a question, it's the answer, it's a blessing
So even when I attack nothin' can bring it
Arm records, I'm ruthless
Spit till I'm toothless
And anyone who's calling me a fool is just too damn foolish
Graduated twelfth grade then I quit that school-ish
I would rather not walk in your shoes and just be fuckin' shoe-less
I'll be runnin' shit in these red man shoes
Let me try to sell you on some pull or scam you
Dodge the hate bullets, don't let them ram you
And live free like Willy, don't swim like Shamu
I would rather die right now than get another desk job
I promised myself I would never [?]
Stupid people sleepin' on me now like a rest stop
They can rest while I become the new neighborhood mascot
I'm like the white chunk in a double stuffed Oreo
Mustache growin', got me lookin' like I'm Wario
Check, 1, 2, 1, 2, I'm a rapper, yo
Skin whiter than some sour dough
Look, uh, mixtape sticking in your head like some Riptape
For shit's sake, one come and go, that's to get cake
We all struggle just the same with a dead core
I just refused to not thinkin' that shit is sad more
People started sleeping on me now like some headboards
Pre-eminent facts that will fuck you like a lead whore
I'm colder than you're fuckin' fridge bitch, get more
You get less neck than Brock Lesnar
Eleanor Rigby is the one I have with me, she's classy and pretty
My old girl is trashy with titties
But I soon perform the action of vaginal smashin' and smashin' but I'd bag it, I don't want the reactions
Plus I come even quicker If I'm sticking it in her
So excited you would think I was a fuckin' beginner
I researched if I had dick sensitivity
It's a bummer how much finishing so quickly can limit me
Even though I've heard my dick as long as a limousine and it always take a minute when I'm gettin' it inbetween
[Chorus]
Blah, blah, blah, I'm so sick
Rap, close cars
Money, bitches on my dick
[Verse 2]
Yo, fuck anything and everything besides this music
Because without it my whole heart is useless
I use it as a weapon, as a question, it's the answer, it's a blessing
So even when I attack nothin' can bring it
Arm records, I'm ruthless
Spit till I'm toothless
And anyone who's calling me a fool is just too damn foolish
Graduated twelfth grade then I quit that school-ish
I would rather not walk in your shoes and just be fuckin' shoe-less
I'll be runnin' shit in these red man shoes
Let me try to sell you on some pull or scam you
Dodge the hate bullets, don't let them ram you
And live free like Willy, don't swim like Shamu
I would rather die right now than get another desk job
I promised myself I would never [?]
Stupid people sleepin' on me now like a rest stop
They can rest while I become the new neighborhood mascot
I'm like the white chunk in a double stuffed Oreo
Mustache growin', got me lookin' like I'm Wario
Check, 1, 2, 1, 2, I'm a rapper, yo
Skin whiter than some sour dough
Lyrics taken from
/lyrics/j/jesse_rutherford/gun_song.html
