Lyrics:
count
Yo Beatmaster V, take these motherfuckers to South Central
Ha ha ha, yeah, fuck that
I hear it every night, another gun fight
The tension
of weight
And I ain't talkin' bout calories put on by steak
The recipe I'm cookin' may send me upstate
Use bakin' soda, cook the pie, collect cake
Now
that's enough of that now
What lead you to think that Lord Jesus would bother with you anyhow
Why you're only a bum and a drunker and nothin' that you can
orders out in harmony
There's a counter full of people singing background
Everything I say
Is repeated one bar later
Five guys in the corner booth are
stuck by me in the hard old days
He never cared if I had no dough
We rambled 'round in the rain and snow
So here's to you, my ramblin' boy
May all your
brown-nose for some gold
Then I'd rather be a bum than a motherfuckin' baller (oh yeah)
Bitch, where you when I was walkin'?
Now I run the game, got
shoes
And my rock star phone
I'm waiting for a friend to call
Or the rain to fall
Life goes by
Who knows why
[chorus]
I can't wait for the world to spin
the O-V-A
And the rest is F-L-Y
You see I go by the code of the doctor of the mix
And these reasons I'll tell you why
You see, I'm six foot one, and I'm
playing tug of war by yourself
Well it looks kinda silly playing tug of war by yourself
And it's hard to high 5 or scratch your back
And it's hard to play
goin' on in your parents' bedrooms
Sometimes I wanna get on TV and just let loose
But can't, but it's cool for Tom Green to hump a dead moose
"My bum
piped like clacks
By the ol' scarecrow
'N pots 'n pans burn the fireman's hands till the
Kettle leaped fire round the belly 'o'
The bayou boy bums
By Thomas McKee
Hi and howdy doody.
I'm a union man
You can call me Rudy.
Any of you boys not paid up on your cards?
You know I'm pleased
In the game we pro with that
21-0 no cheat code for that
My nigga we cold like that
It's 4-5 soldiers in that culdesac
Where they bump that Sosa
sleeping in the snow just waiting for better days
I saw the stars come dislodged and barrage peoples homes
followed by flash floods and f5 cyclones
one night
got burned out by the game
Now he'll bum you for some whiskey
And tell you how it was
Back in '52 when he played for Hank
And I'm watching the sun
Go
thee,
How shall I send thee?
I'm gonna send thee five by five
Five for the five that stayed alive
Four for the four that stood at the door
Three for
We put up our tent on a dark green knoll outside of town
By the train tracks and a seagull dump
Topping the bill was Horse-Faced-Ethel
And her
where my rubber band mans
He's a banker by nature
He'll call and slick of the debt that you owe and thank ya
He'll switch the toys out never
my daughter"
She and I went on the run
Don't care about religion
I'm gonna marry the woman I love
Down by the Wexford border
She was Nancy
over niggaz towns, black ties, tiny bums
Handsome hoods, pretty thugs, but we grimy dun
Cars, cribs, money, had to find me some
Zeke right behind me dun
me once I get goin'
Put a can in my hand, man, I'm wide ass open
The tick-tock of that clock is like a time bomb
By half-past-ten, I'm half past
Xzay (alright)
They yelling out my name (Xzay)
Why y'all grabbing on my chain (ok)
Be on demon time like everyday
Got my nikes on with Beats by Dre (bum
to you
Take your 5k and shuv it up your bum
Thats pretty gay im sorry about that
But we all know heidi's
Chast is flat
Shes a dude
Sorry that was very
Dynamit, dynamit, udělá bum
Dynamit, dynamit, rozboří dům
Dynamit, dynamit, já chtěl bych mít
Dynamit, dynamit, to je můj hit
Dynamit, kilo mít, až
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