Paroles Fuck Ya Guts Out de Kevin Bloody Wilson

Textes et Paroles de Fuck Ya Guts Out

I assumed he was talking to his missusWhen I heard him talkin' on the phoneHis huge tattered frame was shakin' and sobbin'You could tell he was really missin' homeThis bloke was built like the side of a mountainAnd as ugly as a top-end buffaloStandin' there just blubberin' like a babyTalkin' to his woman on the phoneAnd I heard poetry that night as I listened while he spokeI heard poetry that night when he saidI'm gonna fuck ya guts out, an' I'm never gonna stopNot even when I see ya kidneys wrapped around me cock'Cause I'll just whip it in, whip it out, wipe it on yer frockI'm gonna fuck ya guts out, an' I'm never gonna stopI'm gonna fuck ya in the ear, I'm gonna fuck ya in the noseThen I'll spin ya on me finger 'til I find another holeFuckin' hell, forgot me hanky, and I'm about to blowHang on while I let go of the phoneI'm gonna fuck ya guts out, an' I'm never gonna stopNot even when I see ya kidneys wrapped around me cock'Cause I'll just whip it in, whip it out, wipe it on yer frockI'm gonna fuck ya guts out, an' I'm never gonna stopNice frockI assumed I was talkin' to his missusWhen he begged me to hang on to the phoneHe needed both hands to wank withAnd I didn't mind waitin' onAnd I swear I was listenin' to a princessAs pure as the soft driven snowAnd instantly I knew she was missin' him tooAs I listened to her sweet 'n dulcet tonesAnd I heard poetry that night as I listened while she spokeI heard poetry that night when she saidI'm gonna suck ya guts out, make ya sorry that ya askedWhen ya see yer pillow 'n mattress disappearin' up yer assI practiced on the tractor 'til I fucked the bastard's starterI'm gonna suck ya guts out, make ya sorry that ya askedI'm on the rags, but that don't matter; you can whack it up me clackerCan hardly wait to feel that monster dickYou can beat me, whip me, hurt me when yer on the verge of spurtin'Rip off me shirt 'n slam dunk on me titsAnd then I'll suck ya guts out, make ya sorry that ya askedWhen ya see yer pillow 'n mattress disappearin' up yer assI practiced on the tractor 'til I fucked the bastard's starterI'm gonna suck ya guts out, make ya sorry that ya askedAnd I heard poetry that night as I listened while they spokeThere was poetry that night in the airI'm gonna fuck ya guts out just as soon as I get homeInstead of gettin' our rocks off talkin' dirty on the phoneJackin' off, and Jillin' off, and whackin' off aloneI'm gonna fuck ya guts out just as soon as I get home

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