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Styles - Bleach lyrics
[Verse 1: Takbir]
 Yo, swing the sword for the classic year
 Bring the noise with your hands up, slash and tear
 Who can, fathom asthma, dash for air
 Spittin' on the baby bib in the plastic chair
 What's up stupid?
 (Shoot this)
 1-5-1 in the shot glass
(Hot flash)
 Bangin' on the drum, huh
 We cause havoc down in Las Vegas
 Paper trails racing Pelican Brief-cases
 We outrageous, name the streets gave us
 Yeah, we got fame, but now we heat blazers
 I let 'em all fly, 10 in the clip, 1 in the chamber
 Thumbs up! Another banger
 Untuck the flamer, dumbfuck
 It's like gettin' with a dumptruck
 Brains and guts
 Maim, cut, aim, duck, same, stuff
 Get you cracked up like cocaine, heat 'em up
 OK, I'll let a sucka's fly onceStyles - Bleach - http://motolyrics.com/styles/bleach-lyrics.html
 Face down, found him in his Cap'n Crunch
 Uh, malpractice - a bang-all jam
 I joust rappers and track in the radar scans
 Flip beats for the crew like fleets and platoons
 Reach for the moon like Reese Witherspoon, uh
 Don't stop the sure-shot, the (???) anthem
 Blast the gold box, cock back the cannon
 What's up partna, I got ya (what, what)
 Hope that (spoken gunshots) crack the piata
 Slap, box, mouth of backwash
 Teeth mashed up on the asphalt, ya dig?
 Set the pace like a mustang, mashin'
 Up the stakes, who wanna cut the cake, I take cash
 Dropped on a blood-stained mattress
 Stop, you ain't got access, watch
 I'mma change my asset, Ryu and Tak
 You little cunts in the game, you can suck my cum
 And lay flat on the ground, don't make 'em peep
 If you want the stains out now, get the bleach
 Guess who's got the rubber gloves and the bleach?
 Guess who's rockin every club, that's me
 Get so hot, you feel the buzz in









