Lyrics:
the dro sip the Merlot and act a damn fool
Take a bird to Rome, leave the kids at home
Take in the sights of the Pantheon
We duck off in the cut, cuz I'm
Yeah Nigga
Uh
Silk Man
Silk Man
Silk Man
Silk Man
Huh What
Silk Man
Silk Man
Silk Man
Huh
Silk Man
Silk Man
Silk Man
Silk Man
Silk Man
Bitch uh
All
the ghetto go figure
Yeah she got macked by some dope dealin' nigger
Still seein' that other kid on the side
She kept most of her thoughts inside
See all
a punk just because I was quiet
Smacked him with a brick, got a suite at, the Hyatt
My future's so bright that I gotta wear shades
My pocket's so fat
[Daft Punk Is Playing At My House by LCD Soundsystem]
A-OW OW!
Well Daft Punk is playing at my house
My house
I'll show you the ropes, kid
Show you
the b****es walked by and my dick popped out
Rankin' on the b****es hanging in the street
It's feedin' time, so hoe, come eat
Nibble on this dick, make me
...so get it on kid!
Fresh is the word, when i display my rappin forte
Quicker done than o.j., hey
I freaks my shit, e the lyrical master
Stress me
with his eye open, keep his metal smokin'
Young wasted minds, fiendin' on dimes, cokin'
Forgot kids quick to break rules, and known to make fools
Out
down by law and I know my way around
On 42nd Street, lookin' for some action
Women standing on the corner selling satisfaction
One young punk just
payments on a be -M-W
I know you never would settle for the minimum snaps
Have to live in the ghetto where the blacks be at
And send your kids to a school
on as I start to kick it
Cause we're like outlaws striding while suckers are hiding
Jump behind the bush when you see me driving by'
Hanging out my
I pity the punks that partake in the madness
Yangin' the young for their products and profits
The pushers keep pushin' on D and on Jump Street
Treatin' niggas dumb, as I drink my rum
I'm a mad man, I get respect with the Tec
Put punks in check, Shug's on the set
I'm the one with the game,
of the maniac dressed in black carry round a strap
Kid you play me too close (slow down and catch a cap, POW!!)
Cause I don't play games, an outlaw like Jesse
money where your mouth is, watch Redman house shit
And if it's beef I'll punch you in your mouth kid ('Damn!')
I got a heart but my heart is made out
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from
about what shoulda, would'a and could'a happened
If music was about inovatin' and penetratin' generations by generatin' musical intergration
It wouldn't
to (Huh?)
Makin' shots at them kids who use to punk you (Huh?)
Repititious rap shit, don't get nowhere play ya mouth whip
And niggaz can't smoke wit' dry
bombs.
And the world's not ours tonight in a Berlin flat lit by neon lights.
My boyfriend's in the stairwell, he looks just like James Dean,
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from
Became my best man she a gold digger
I can see it on her CAT scan
'Rari in the trenches
Kids be thinkin' that I'm Batman
Superhero status every time I'm
16-year-old kids
Love the punk rock
16-year-old kids
Think the punk rock 77 rocks
Don't even ask them
About anything from '82
Don't ask them
About
tellin' us it ain't gon' rain
So now we sittin' in a drop-top, soakin' wet
In a silk suit, tryin' not to sweat
Hit somersaults without the net
But
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