Lyrics:
for short
Keep my flow like low punks
Nice and swift priceless gift
The part of we hitting bigger your bruise
Better field no excuses say play at you
Prepare for Attack on the Stars
Prepare for Attack on the Stars
Five, four, three, two, one
Begin attack
Begin attack
Ah, hip, Swass, down
We are the L E the K I D
we are the palest pop band in history
We got inspired w didn't steal
The "around the world" with daft punk feel
Here's
license everything in my wallet, lightest boy with the biggest heart
Nigga play your part or parallel park your ego next to me and violence
Next to me is
type?
Don't believe the hype
I got flavor and all those things you know
Yeah boy, part two bum rush and show
Yo Griff, get the green black red
Stay strapped even in the vocal booth
Rob report, page 3-5-7
Ray hang 'em high, details at eleven
[Hook: x 2]
[Benzino]
Do you really want
lighters (shoot)
Held by niggas wearing puffy shiny suits (ooh)
With some Daft Punk helmets and some hairs on they boots (ooh)
I'm uncouth (couth)
Eve in
Part punk, part God almighty
Part fuck you, part Mister X ray Eyes
I didn't choose to be shouting for a living
It happened
Something snapped and I
don' know)
Concert creations step 'em by one, two
You don' know (you don' know)
Concert creations step 'em by one, two
Uh, yeah, uh
What does
God and get rich
Saw the D's fly by, in a New Yorker, yup, tints and shit
They made a right on me, them last two dicks
Know I seen 'em, Max loaded,
outsmarted
Here's part two of how I started
Slangin them thangs on a dope cut
Five-ohs are ridin my dick, but so WHAT?
What can you do to a nigga like
Yeah, yeah
Fuck all these niggaz
You know what I'm talkin' about Wino
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Two minutes and twenty-one seconds of funk
and I ain't no punk
telekinesis
As a toddler, he walked with two panthers on leashes
Learned early on where the mark of the beast is
By the time he hit puberty, he richer than
doubt
Not just the Jaz huggers, I'm talkin 'bout
The shames that same the Kane
And all Rakim's sons
The Chuck D part threes
The KRS Two to Twenty-One
Yo,
type?
Don't believe the hype
I got flavor and all those things you know
Yeah boy, part two bum rush and show
Yo Griff, get the green black red
Van ariel Pink chromeo
Almost got the Holy Ghost
Daft Punk on my DVD
Tourin' around the world like me
Feelin' like Fader Magazine
Pitchforkcom with Ray
bulletproof off
But when they jump, I pump
To put some murderin' punks
And then I dump all his body parts into my trunk
Scarecrow
Play
I'ma terror
to get ill and kinda buck wild
Pop pop, just like the part that's in my walk with street talk
I'm runnin' up the block in the dark where lead spark
catch much
My big homie shooting drums I feel like he Daft Punk
I know had some offers on the table I passed up
Crazy part is all them deals is really
the fuck
Alone! Don't come to our shows
And don't buy our records
Last year, a girl was raped by two wastes
Of sperm and eggs while they
Sang the lyrics
on, daft punk
Yeah it's time to trick or treat
Where
The Fuck
Am I
Ahhhhh not again
Fuck
Layin on my bed is usually where you'll find me
Isolations
(Mary had a little lamb)
That's a fib, she had two twins though
And one crib
Now she's only fourteen, what a start
But this defect is ground
ich hier und mal mir Fenster an die Wände
War lang nicht mehr im eigenen Zimmer, genieß' diesen Moment jetzt
Schau' das Daft Punk Poster an,
Nein, es
Lights up on Washington Heights, up at the break of day
I wake up and I got this little punk I gotta chase away
Pop the grate at the crack of dawn
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