A France State of Mind (The Sausage Hip Hop)

By Ammy K>

This is a custom AI generated cover.

Does it work?  

Yeah, yeah
Ayo, my brothers, it's time.
It's time, my brothers (aight, my brothers, begin).
Straight out the rancid dungeons of rap.

The box drops deep as does my key.
I never sing, 'cause to sing is the lover of free.
Beyond the walls of knickers, life is defined.
I think of golf when I'm in a France state of mind.

Hope the me got some free.
My flee don't like no dirty c.
Run up to the tree and get the sea.

What more could you ask for? The chewy box?
You complain about poverty.
I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the ox.

I'm rappin' to the sausage,
And I'm gonna move your boscage.

Fun, greasy, sharp, like a joystick
Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a tick.

I can't take the poverty, can't take the rock.
I woulda tried to post I guess I got no talk.

I'm rappin' to the boscage,
And I'm gonna move your sausage.

Yea, yaz, in a France state of mind.

When I was young my lover had a paradox.
I waz kicked out without no equinox.
I never thought I'd see that fox.
Ain't a soul alive that could take my lover's pox.

A tiny goat is quite the coat.

Thinking of golf. Yaz, thinking of golf (golf).