Blow Me — текст песни (Kid Rock)

A bottle of jack`s got my manager grinnin`
yeah that`s me that keeps the turntables spinniN`
I`m countin cards and I keep on winnin`
I know God hates me cuz I`m always sinnin`
U don`t know me blow me ho you wanna get hot
you`ll get your ass blown out fuckin with the Kid Rock
Eatin up ya suckers just the same way a beast could
tearin thru your town like muther fuckin Clint Eastwood
Cuz I be fakin the rhymes that keep ya shakin`
makin a lotta money but don`t let me be mistaken
I never thought about climbin up the pop chart
and I don`t give a fuck u can`t buy my tape in K-Mart
Give me a choice between soundin like an ass wipe
or sittin in an alley smokin crack from a glass pipe
I`d be as skinny as a junkie with the AIDS plague
but still I`d look better than a puppet tryin to get paid
Now check the rhyme as i climb and I co get rude
and send ya runnin` playin` pussy like Shaggy and Scoob
Cuz I`m the wrong dude to fuck with my mouth is mental
and I`m a tear shit up like they did in South Central
Son of a bitch I`m the son of a bitch
nobody ever loved u so you`re the son of a dick
I`m a product of a young girl top in her class
you`re a product of a hooker who was sellin that ass
And your styles in the past it`s old and dusty
so from now on I`m callin u M.C. Crusty
Cuz to face me u must be blitzed or blasted
so now I`m gonna drop ya like a hit of acid
And when I rip ya people they might stare
cuz I got more rhymes than Donahue`s got white hair
An yo buck won`t you please be a friend
And tell your mom I wanna fuck and I`ll pick her up at 10