Lyrics YZ Aubergine – Booty Judas

Booty Judas Lyrics – YZ Aubergine

Singer: YZ Aubergine
Title: Booty Judas

Booty Judas! Prostate Apostle, Splooge Brutus!
Ruthless, terrorize and shoot mass buttholes like it’s Munich
Got him farting symphonies, gape his butthole like a tuba
His gene pool need a lifeguard, his dookie juice need a scuba

Ask my prisonmates, I do jail rape well
Call me the mitochondria, I’m the “powerhouse of the cell”
Give his farthole a kiss just like it’s getting betrayed
Bomb his anal chamber so that he can pass 72 virgins my AIDS

Oopsie doodles! My ten-inch pubes are gluteally glued to his caboosе
And I splooged upon his birthmark to remind him of his roots
Front like Bukkakе combat, deploying out infantry troops
It’s a faecal Wendy’s frosty mixing chips in with the poop!

Filmed your baby Daddy pooping, we gon’ watch that sh#t in Blu-Ray
Then we break into his house and smack his booty with bamboo canes
Then he moaned like he was Elvis, nut oozing on his blue suedes
Farts reverberated through the room like it was shoegaze!

Stank anaesthesia hypnotizing, I’m in an odour coma
He can’t breathe from his lymphoma, he give me teeth, no Teratoma
Saliva dribbles everywhere, watch him start to twerk and grind
That brain controls my movements, he’s got a telekinetic mind

Dislodging his spine, my ballsack swings like a pendulum
Nut dribbles down his forehead, call that sh#t a “temple run”
His butthole’s jaundiced yellow, looking like the Grinch’s teeth
Then out prolapsed a vile daemon, the f#cker’s name was Keith!

He said…
“Make that booty loosen
Make that booty pooping
Poach the homie’s egg

Suck out the albumin”!
So I punctured his colon, conjured up vomit potions
He giving me different strokes, but his name not Gary Coleman
Shoved a burrito up his #ss, them cheeks speaking Spanish

Planted family trees in his #ss, I’m a rectal Captain Planet
Any anal avoirdupois or celluite I gotta claw
Saw a saggy, khakied assmeat that was chatting, “blah blah blah”!
And I grin maliciously when that fat butt talkin’

Here’s proleptic prolapse prose- “that’s a dead #ss walking”!
f#ck! Did I just confess to the murder of the cheeks?
“I’m Detective Desmond, hands up, I’m here with the police
But I see that you’re erect, do you really plan to r*pe me”?

So I turnover his cheeks and stuff my meat like a Cornish Pasty
Then we CLAP!
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Lyrics YZ Aubergine – Booty Judas

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You can purchase their music thru 
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