The Three Prophets - Empty Vessels, Pt. 2 Lyrics

F*ck this, Kim Anthony is gone
Bitch disappeared like a mastodon
Bogdan brought out the best of her
But lost a staring contest to her mirror
Spent her rent on abortion, but got kicked out of her house
That shit didn't work, now she's lost her spouse
Her soul is empty
Her purse is empty
MOTHERFUCKER
Both her cribs are empty
She looked at me, and I see in her eye
The same type of look when she's about to cry
Dumbo looking bitch, Plooney play her eardrums
Talking to the coochie, so I'm speaking in tongues
Call my choppa KKK
Cause my choppa hate gays
Hunga, hunga, go stupid on this beat
Rambling on like a madman
Because love is in the air
You're not crew, you're spare
This is your cross to bear
I don't really care
Bitch I'm on a tear
This shit just ain't fair
AHH!
FUCK!
Like Luka Magnotta, I beat up the pussy
Eat any kind, no Plooney, no fussy
Call it dysentery cause I'm sick of this shit
Mumbling gonna need Paul Schmidt
Freene's a boss bitch who won't come down
Walking in like Joaquin looking like a clown
Little bitch Kim looking down with a frown
Looking like Paimon but without a crown
Without a camel go Dennis Wilson I'm about to-
Bark
Are you listening to the shit I'm saying
No you're not, f*ck you, you're just playing
So get off my verse and get on the chorus
Bogdan's waiting like Lazarus
Oh
She so sexual
I'd f*ck her so
She makes my balls full
She's the crucible
For my semen
I punch her booby
She's my queen
Cock and ball torture from my Freene
Prowlin' around like Kanye (Wolves)
Love is blindness, can't see the bull
Shit on the beat cause his eyes gone ca-ca
Crazy, bom-bom, hit like Papa
Like Barkley, he's lost his mind
Like Bartley, he'd never cry
Tears for Fears, wanna rule the world
Pubes are sheared like his baby girl
Strut to the counter, now he's found her
Freene looking thick like a quarter-pounder
Nothing says love like a scary clown
Big MILF Ciara looking on with a frown
She's that bitch, she knows what's up
Bogdan's D looking like Freene's cup
OJ, murder this beat like Simpson
Princess a better dad than that simp, son
Holla at your girl like 'Hello, Homie!'
Buttermilk Jesus, you think you know me
Grabs her shoulder, hand like boulder
Falls in love even though she's older
Nursing home, no, built like bone
Tears welling up, snot run from the srón
Like Ye and Hov, better watch the throne
She's queen bitch, no old crone
Stuck on her love like nicotine
Lean over the Juul to kiss his Freene
The jewel of his eye, apple in his pie
Salt of the earth, can't handle his girth
Throwing her out like it's Babylon
All the way home, they babble on
We know their love gonna last forever
Just like Bruno, she's his treasure
Oh
She so sexual
I'd f*ck her so
She makes my balls full
She's the crucible
For my semen
I punch her booby
She's my queen
Cock and ball torture from my Freene