Ron Simmons

[Verse 1] Gipsy Salami cheese is from the cave Wild dandelion greens dressed up on the plate Parmesan crisp, we wildin' in Marea Doing all the drugs off of Pico and Labrea Peace to Kings English, sticky green fingers Brock Fetch Polaroids Bitches named Inga Cunnilingus, Buddy Holly singin Hash between my butt cheeks, hookers in the plush suite Whole grain mustard, 12 grain bread Move cocaine out of Spokane, I got no shame Spit the propane, relieve you of your gold chain Go to bed without even knowing the hoes name Hazelnut spread, banana on the bread Treat you like a shark, put the hammer on your head Mock neck sweaters, Alpaca on the threads Fat black leathers. Leave your body in the shed Damn [Hook] Ron Simmons Peace to motherfucking Iceland Ron Simmons Ron Simmons Ron, Ron Simmons Ron Simmons [Verse 2] Damn, your fucking with a pro kid No triple A I went straight up to the show, kid While You can catch me out in Spain on the coast, dick Don't ever say my fucking music sound like Ghost shit Born alone, stood strong for half of fifty Vocal reminiscing of a kid that hold a semi Old and sweaty, motherfucker shit the bed They crying in the corner while their shorty give me head Yeah, ice sculptures, Venezuelan white vultures Chinese wizardry, long capes Old grapes in the glasses she suck me while I'm flaccid Every summer catch me grilling steaks by Lake Placid Dabble then pass it, don't ever babble or get blasted Bitches ass to ass, double dildos made of plastic Remain classic with all this flash inside the pan shit Like Jr. Griffey smashing homers, never land bitch Damn, we never land bitch Yeah, we never land bitch Kinda high, never land bitch But you can see me eatin Lamb, bitch Damn