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
Blow Me Lyrics performed by Kid Rock are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Blow Me Lyrics performed by Kid Rock is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD