"This is Deluxe and in today's topic, we'll be discussing sunsets, string beans and more particularly women's most dreaded inner conflict: PMS" Faced to the blank of the white paper My beans are boiling its an hearthquacker See hot sauce drowning is the sensation Of my body rocking UP and building in tension It burns my flesh and steals my sleep Razzles my bones within real deep Fully conscient but still there's nothing to do, i'm plainly ill Razing the crowd with a pink fister Beast on the lose, its a Ballbreaker Cockroach crawling UP and DOWN mansion This is but a major z transformation Cussing it out through dem blue teeth A minute to laugh. Ten to go weep Monsterocious appeal, there's nothing to do i'm plainly ill Bleed on Cure that syndrome That Silly syndrome Bleed on Going on a number 4 I declare hormonal war And gently turn into a dark witch You can ring the danger red alarm Her loins are 'bout to spit an arm Confiscate the mike from the ditch I'll dully lie And contemplate the wreck I so despise The guilty tension it implies Cant seem to let the feeling die so Bleed on Cure that syndrome that Silly syndrome Bleed on
"This is Deluxe and in today's topic, we'll be discussing sunsets, string beans and more particularly women's most dreaded inner conflict: PMS" Faced to the blank of the white paper My beans are boiling its an hearthquacker See hot sauce drowning is the sensation Of my body rocking UP and building in tension It burns my flesh and steals my sleep Razzles my bones within real deep Fully conscient but still there's nothing to do, i'm plainly ill Razing the crowd with a pink fister Beast on the lose, its a Ballbreaker Cockroach crawling UP and DOWN mansion This is but a major z transformation Cussing it out through dem blue teeth A minute to laugh. Ten to go weep Monsterocious appeal, there's nothing to do i'm plainly ill Bleed on Cure that syndrome That Silly syndrome Bleed on Going on a number 4 I declare hormonal war And gently turn into a dark witch You can ring the danger red alarm Her loins are 'bout to spit an arm Confiscate the mike from the ditch I'll dully lie And contemplate the wreck I so despise The guilty tension it implies Cant seem to let the feeling die so Bleed on Cure that syndrome that Silly syndrome Bleed on
