Porn Flakes Lyrics

V1
Friday night, and yo, we just got paid/
We’re on our way to sight Miami, F-L-A nightlife to
promenade/
It’s time to say exactly where to route the streets to
scout freaks…/
The words that collectively come out each mouth be
South Beach/
We seek to reach the sheets of Hotel suites that’s
candy coated/
So, yo, if you’re bringing a van, you’d better believe
it’s gonna get loaded/
To the full. Cause RBM is in effect to that extent/
We rent a hundred percent of the bitches at the age of
consent/
(So here we go) We hit the spot about a quarter to
twelve-/
It’s Tone, Logic, Opie 1, and G-I-double the L/
Craze is the definition of record spinnin’ precision/
Gettin’ chicks in position’s the mission of this
expedition/
So, my vision is in focus on the dancefloor/
More ‘Get-It, Get It’- ‘Shake That Ass’- whores than
you could ask for/
And as for Logic, there was some blonde bitch with some
tits that looked atomic saying she want it-/
That calculated nigga’s counting on it/
Ope and Gill were scoopin’ bitches by the numbers/
So I began to wonder If I would pass to wax that ass
before my slumber/
U under A full-over-Miami-moon/
But soon enough She simply hit me with a smile and
said, “Hi, my name is Trixie.”/
She said she was a Gypsy, told me I was sexy/
Wanted to show me she could do origami with her p*ssy
lips/
She tried to kiss me on the spot, I guess she deemed
she felt the need/
I said, “I know you’re fast Trixie, but my name is not
Speed.”/
She was barely 19, but, f*ck, the bitch was lookin’
wicked/
With them type of D-S-L’s that screamed for you to put
your dick inside her mouth/
She’d turn it out, I’m shoutin’ no doubt and no
question/
When it comes to blows this girl would cave your
f*ckin’ chest in/
So, next in the mode of operations is to ditch/
With Trixie, Logic, Opie, Gill, and the Atomic Titty
Bitch/
I flip the switch to open the trunk, so we can load the
extra baggage/
Now it seems we’ve got more people than I think the van
can manage/
So, yes, I begin to panic, And, man, I’m throwin fits/
And I’m just swerving, cause I can’t see past atomic
bitch’s tits/
Now, ‘Ahh, Shit’, here come the pigs and they be
burnin’ my tail/
They said, “Excuse me, Tone, we heard you had some herb
to inhale…”/
I said, “I’m sorry, officer, I’m not that type of MC./
See, I embellish the status of my creativity/
(y) Bitches are my addiction when the rhythm can’t be/
But, I won’t tell no one you asked me if you let me go
free.”/
He said, “Si”, which translated to our asses moving on
to the part of the song that had us naked in the sauna
at Motel Iguana/
Now, Opie’s bitch’s name was Shauna and Gill’s was
Ivana/
And those two hookers was too live to be as nasty as
they wanna/
Talkin’ ‘bout whips and hand-cuffs, claiming only when
they’re battered and bruised they’ve had ‘nuff/
Now, that’s ruff and tumble shit I’m not equipped to
handle/
If she wants to be a masochist, then that’s a bitch I
can’t get with/
They said, “Chill.” Took off the panties, spread legs
they flexed/
Certain proceeds of the paychecks went towards latex
for safe sex/
It’s time to get my face wet, the p*ssy taste test/
Trixie tells me my Dick tastes best while I remove the
bitch’s playtex/
The sexual Apex. This scene resembles an X-rated
playset/
Swinging upon the dicks they park on, So, now the place
gets/
Hotter than steam boats. Pull out the willie in a
hurry/
She said, “Damn, you’re dick is bigger than them words
from Keith Murray”/
‘Yo, it bee’s like that sometimes’, stinging that ass
with fury/
Don’t wear no yellow jacket, still Georgia Tech hoes
prefer me/
‘Cause you can’t lose with this big Johnson, it’s a
casino up in here/
Because it’s Licker up front and Poker in the rear/
I strip and lose the T-Shirt. We flirt with penetration
for a second/
I tickled the clit, ‘cause I figured the bitch would
now resort to beggin’/
I’m slippin’ the dick in with that special move for wreckin’/
Checkin’ the f*cks like hockey pucks and ass attackin’
like it’s Tekken 2/
I betcha guessin’ who would ever have a night (Such
as)/
The one I’m talkin’ about, where me and the crew be
gettin’ (Much ass)/
Not poppin’ trash, but, yo, Any dirt could happen/
So, uh, Just gimme a second so I can keep that ass
splackin.

V2
So, anyways, as I was saying, yo, the f*ckfest
proceeds/
Four kids be fixed in friction, four hookers be on
their knees/
Like in one way or the other, either, they’re lickin’
cocks or gettin rocked/
Just when you thought 8 was enough- well it’s not/
(Knock, Knock) who’s at the door?/
I be trippin over them hookers on the floor Tryin’ to
get my pants on/
Hey, yo, it’s 3:34 in the morning, time’s passed on/
Yo, it was Mannyphesto and DJ Craze with their grasps
on/
2 other Rave bitches that I didn’t recognize/
Sized ‘em up enough to give the ‘Go Head’, so they
could dive/
Into the Live wire strip twister match we had going…/
Tits and Ass showin’, everybody hoeing’ in the place/
No space, it was a blatant exhibition/
Face fishin’ between the hips till we create the next
position in the Kama Sutra/
We shoot to make the text revisions/
‘Sutra’ comma; Makin’ ‘em scream for preposition
repetitions/
No matter how cute you are, you’re probably a future
star for Porno/
Rubbing my dick in the car, so, yo, quit trying to act
so formal/
Her sexual appetite’s beyond abnormal, so you know that
when the morn’ breaks/
She want’s to eat another bowl of Porn Flakes/
But, there’s a double meaning to the term/
Second being a ditsy-bitch that keeps it creamin’ on a
firm cock/
And she can burn spots and light ‘em up; she never
minds a f*ck/
She’ll even make a frigid nigga turn hot to ride him
up/
But, right now, I’m tryin’ to suck this hoochie’s
coochie/
While f*ckin’ the brains out this bitch that’s workin’
my dick, and I’m hearing “SWITCH!”/
It’s a house party, baby, kids be glued to the couch/
The time has cum for niggas to do the same and
‘Spoochindamouth’!/
So, yo, we’re bustin’ nuts, and us- we aim at the chin/
And I lost it when Logic said to his bitch, “Yo, what’s
your name again?”/
Gilligan, Opie, Craze, and Mannyphesto did the same/
But, before I had the chance to change, Yo, I noticed
something strange./
There was something about Trixie that really bothered
me/
A big ole’ f*ckin’ grin on her face like she just won
the lottery/
When I figured she oughtta be brushing her teeth or
finding her bra…/
But, Yo, my eyes were in awe when she bust out the
chainsaw/
My brain stalled for a second I hopped back with no
hesitation/
I caught the relation of this hooker’s saw and
mutilation/
The closer she came, the more we shouted/
She said, “Motherf*ckers, you’re ‘bout to suffer the
same fame as John Bobbit!”/
Suddenly, the cameramen jumped out the closet/
And that tig-ole’ bitty bitch’s tits turned out to be
atomic/
And them Shauna and Ivana girls were totally robotic/
And them 2 rave bitches-well, they were knotted from
the jump./
(But, Anyhow) This Trixie bitch was wiggin’ on me, on
the spot/
She said, “It’s men like you who turn us women into
sexpots/
And meat- pieces objectified. I’m here to rectify the
stain!”/
Then the girl took off her face and, goddamn, “It’s
Chasey Lain”/
Then they all took off their masks and what a change if
I’ve ever seen/
To Sunset hookers, actresses, and Supermodel Beauty
Queens/
I wonder what this truly means… It’s all a scheme to
make me pay/
For being a Dog, yo, f*ck this, move out bitch get
outta my way—” (Chainsaw ensues)

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