Get your hands up The sky's falling Get your hands up It's the apocalypse Got a mouth full of lambs blood Dam broke down The whole town flooded Your man couldn't cut it Got his fake ass gutted He muttered something monotoned Under his breath Now he's out first round With his hand on his chest Must have been a cardiac Now he's searching for his Pontiac To get back to a bar attack To brush up on his battle rap We hit the high hats and make it clap We wear plaid after labor day and still get ass We're high-class, low brow, over bomb beats Cloggin' more ateries than the drive-thru at Arby's.
Singin', I love Rock 'n' Roll So put another dime in the jukebox, baby. I love Rock 'n' Roll Put another dime and dance with me!
Get your hands clappin' The aliens have landed Get your hands clappin' Damn I'm dope Been rockin' since a zygote It won't stop the price crossers opening for my ghost Cos everybody knows that I've been backin' the fans My rhymes touch more kids than Micheal Jackson's hands I'm iller than thriller Stiffer than a zombie Gagged with Abercrombie while your girl rides up on me And I'm callin' up your sister and we're cuddling to Amelie. Ohhhh! So you think you can rap So you walk eight miles, and you think you can rap. That's cuter than the Olsen pre-dope but your crack Or havin' a teddy bear tattooed up on your back.
Singin', I love Rock 'n' Roll So put another dime in the jukebox, baby. I love Rock 'n' Roll Put another dime and dance with me!Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
