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Artist: Brotha Lynch Hung
Album:  Dinner and a Movie
Song:   Sit in That Corner Bitch!
Typed by:

No! Sit in that fuckin' corner, bitch!
No! Just sit in that fuckin' corner and shut the fuck up, bitch!
Shoulda kept you off the Internet!
Just sit in that fuckin' corner, bitch!
Shut the fuck up!

[Verse 1]
Razor-blade your nipples, baby, breast-feed me
I just saw your face on the TV, look at that
They already think you're layin' six feet deep, took a nap
Now they on the news, talkin' 'bout they want they nigga back
I gave her back to 'em, not before I took a bat
Bashed in the head, bathed in it and played in it
And smashed in the Chev', back to the hideout
Shit, I took a machete and dug her fuckin' eyes out
Now I'm on the Internet, motherfucker, why not?
MySpace is my place, pick her up and tie knots
Got her on the bed, playin' dead, fucked her
Then I took her to the bathtub and made her bloody red
No matter what he said, nigga, he's the ripgut
I saw him slice a nigga's dick up, cut a nigga's bitch up
Put her in the trash bag and that's that
He's on Facebook, she's in his face, look

Sit in that fuckin' corner, bitch!
(Where's my motherfuckin' razor blade?)
(Hey, I'm tellin' you, bitch, you better take me serious!)
Sit in that corner, bitch!
(Remember when you got that computer for Christmas?)
(Yeah, that's why you're here!)
Sit in that fuckin' corner, bitch!
(Shoulda told 'em you wanted some damn, uh, Christian Louboutin)
And sit in that corner, bitch!
(Now I'm 'bout to cut you, meat you, heat you and eat you, bitch, yeah)

[Verse 2]
She asked me for a cigarette, here you go, bitch, bet
First, pull out your titties and I promise I'll get you wet
After I slit your neck, I keep 'em brainwashed
Cut open the skull and cold water gets your brains washed
I'm in the kitchen with the Ithaca, rippin' your bitch's britches up
And itchin' to get to spit the guts
Out of my mouth, I'ma get it out of my house
By cookin' it and eatin' it and then I'm shittin' it out
Like I do MCs, you will find shit all in the couch
Shit in the bathroom and shit in the mouth
And razor blades and alcohol, shit in the pouch
Like 50 bitches on they period, I'm serious now
It's 'bout to take three hours, like ham hocks
Trust me, I'm tryin' to feed all them kids and the damn dog
I don't want a ransom, I'm sicker than Charlie Manson
And some, like Chucky, I'm cuttin' the butt cheeks

So sit in that fuckin' corner, bitch!
(Yeah, it's just about an hour left before dinner)
(You wanna watch a movie?)
Sit in that corner, bitch!
(Instead of popcorn, I got popcorn alligator. You want some?)
So sit in that fuckin' corner, bitch!
(Oh, okay. Well, um, I gotta piss so, uh, you need anything to drink?)
And sit in that corner, bitch!
(Yeah, I also got diarrhea, too, so, uh, you want a milkshake?)

[Charles Manson interview]
Maybe I should have killed four-five hundred people, then I would have felt
better. Then I would have felt like I really offered society something. You
know, if I wanted to kill somebody, I'd take this book and beat you to death
with it, and I wouldn't feel a thing. It'd be just like walking to the drugstore.

Do you feel blame? Are you mad? Do you feel like *unintelligible babbling*