[Verse 1] I feel phenomenal as usual Pharmaceuticals, glue sniff and pools of vomit at Bonnaroo But I don't know if I'm in Tennessee, Chicago, or Houston In the corner trying to seek solitude Shallow but such a hollow dude I won't even swallow solid food Alcoholic too, plus I'm on lean like the Tower of Pisa Top it off I'm on mushrooms so fuck all of you Roses are violet, mollies are blue Lost in a ball of confusion Its all an illusion It's probably the shrooms I'm on Cause I think I started hallucinating Cause I just thought I heard Jay Electronica and Odd Future's new shit And all I can do is follow the music And end up with Paula Abdul at Lollapalooza Fillin' water balloons with nail polish remover Just to pop 'em and wallow in fumes I feel uptight I gotta get looser After I finish polishing off this bottle of booze I got a solution Concentrated like orange juice so I'm not as diluted Cause all this delusion got me seein' shit Excusez-moi but that coochie that passed You see her ass? Wouldn't make her my main squeeze But juicier ass, it belongs in a juicer It's mouth waterin' too so I walked up to it like I'm Marshall Wanna try to meet my standards? I'll introduce ya Oh I'm a misogynist too but I'm not a masseuse But my attitude is rubbin' off on the youth A chronic abuser, and I don't mean a user of marijuana I mean verbal assault that I use to smoke all of you losers Got a bazooka, a shotgun, a ruger, a Glock, and a nuke And a Rottweiler too, and I'm not in the mood so When I say I'm bringing the TEC out I'm not coming to repair your fuckin' electronic computers God, I'm gonna puke I'm so gone off the hookah I think I swallowed a loofah I'm tore up, demolished, a fuckin' stone like Oliver Like I looked Medusa in the eyeball to seduce her The thoughts I produce are loony tunes The box of reusable latex gloves and the socks and the shoes That were placed next to Veronica's boobs And the paycheck stubs that were stuffed in the glove box In a blue Honda with used condoms were clues The girl was just not the one suitable for him
[Hook] Right for me, will change me, rearrange my head to be Just right for you and me, don’t laugh, please listen, to me
[Verse 2] Thought I’d give in to the pressure Collapse and crumble perhaps Relapsing under that Well that's a bunch of crap In the clutch, I'm the Captain Crunch of rap And I'm sick of acting humble, that's enough of that Fuck that shit, cut the sack It's a natural reaction That's why I'm actually trapped in this shoving match Cause push keeps coming to that I can keep getting my ass kicked and coming back Like a sarcastic crumpled sack of shit, still mad Disgruntled, had some struggles, yeah But that passionate hunger's back The fantastic juggling act And the way I flip my tongue on the track It's like verbal acrobatics But in fact Last time I tried to pull off a dramatic stunt as drastic I fuckin' crashed my hovercraft After I strapped the duffel bag to my back And stuck the massive punchin' bag in it An elastic bungee strap, proper plaster, a thumb tack And a piece of plastic bubble wrap Went spastic and fuckin' snapped Jumped and splashed in a puddle of battery acid Stumbled back, recovered, back flipped And landed on a gymnastic tumble mat And for my last trick, lunge on back lash On a NASA shuttle flap, fuckin' snapped the rudder in half Chuckled and laughed, buttaled my last rebuttal And just asked him to come crash And I grab my Go-Go-Gadget inflatable gigantic humongous mattress And ceramic construction hat Rubbed my magic mushroom tat Fell off then splat, get up from that Face taped to a waste paper basket Throw up then gasp, lungs collapse And that's more likely than finding someone that's
[Hook]
[Verse 3] Couple of shots of Jäger Public intoxication, dis-fuckin'-combobulation Flooded with thoughts of anger While I was away I know probably some of you got to thinkin' "You're top ten ain't cha?" stop it cause you fuckers are talkin' crazy And stop interrupting you're not even up in the conversation Whether you're punchin' a clock or famous Underground, pop, or nameless, whatever your job is I came to fuck with your occupation You're thinkin' just cause you came in with scrubs And you brought the scalpel and sponge The oxygen tank and the suction and shot the brain surgeon Stuck in the operating room Once you done swapped your name with him Smuggled in Ronald Reagan Dug him up; Donald Fagen While juggling waffles baking A fuckin' McDonalds egg and cheese sausage bagel finagle They flung it across the table Then bump it and knock it shake it Jumped and got in the way then disrupted my concentration I said fuck it and lost my patience They all woke up from sedation Ain't none of you Dr Dre So then what is it got you thinkin' You can fuck with this operation? Aftermath, still running hip-hop amazing I'm still pluggin' along No need for an assumption Here's confirmation I'm up for the long duration I'm just looking for something to walk away with Some pocket change and a little integrity Though I'll probably be jumpin' across the stage Till I'm fuckin' Madonna's age and Stuck in an awkward place in my life But I shit you not like I'm plugged up with constipation That day will come before I finally stumble upon some lady that’s
[Hook]Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
