Rock this shotgun
Rock this shot
Rock this shotgun
Rock this shot
Rock this shotgun
Rock this shot
Television, my teacher
Confessor and preacher
My bible
My bile
Talk show and trial
You're wet, I'm wild
For your shilling, I'm willing
Tune in your lips and burning breath
My fête worse than death
He thinks he's bad
Ain't got no plan
Rock this shotgun up his motherfuckin' ass
He thinks he's bad
Ain't got no plan
Rock this shotgun up his motherfuckin' ass
Rock this shotgun
Rock this shot
Rock this shotgun up his motherfucking ass
Rock this shotgun
Rock this shot
Rock this shotgun up his motherfucking ass
My profit, my pusher
My faker, my hooker
A little praise, it's astounding
In for a penny and I get a pounding
Through all the drinks
My vision shrinks and drowns this fife
That slowly sinks
He thinks he's bad
Ain't got no plan
Rock this shotgun up his motherfuckin' ass
He thinks he's bad
Ain't got no plan
Rock this shotgun up his motherfuckin' ass
Rock this shotgun
Rock this shot
Rock this shotgun up his motherfucking ass
Rock this shotgun
Rock this shot
Rock this shotgun up his motherfucking ass
A Fête Worse Than Death Lyrics performed by Pig are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that A Fête Worse Than Death Lyrics performed by Pig is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD