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libertine.

from bad Sunday. by pizza boy.

/

lyrics

[Verse]
Ahh-haa! Death ain't even real!
Now rise from the hole in the plot of land filled with all that you felt, all that you thought, all that you lost, to find out you never had it
Just a predetermined habit that-

Blah, blah, blah
Where's the fuckin’ blow?
I don't need your dumb ass telling me what I know
I'm in hell forever, I got it, now let's go
They built the 10th Circle to host my next show
Fuck the talking; show me all the tits
I’ma give your husband's cheek a kiss
Motherfuck a camera; feed you clips
Break the fourth wall then plead the fifth
Sex doll with me in the whip
Hearse peanut butter insides
Pulled over, came in a jif
Then again like I was in a GIF
Say it wrong, I'm cutting off your lips
Say it right; Furtado got the hits
Playlist on me for the long trips
Drive them to the end of all their wits
Dump the body in the red lagoon
Then I get skinny with the dip
Then I get skinny with the dip
Then I get skinny with the dip

credits

from bad Sunday., released April 16, 2017
produced by Lyle Horowitz.

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pizza boy. Peoria, Illinois

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