[Intro] Can I kick it? (Crowd: Yes you can!) Can I kick it? (Crowd: Yes you can!) Can I kick it? (Crowd: Yes you can!) Well I'm gonna (Crowd: Go on, then!)
[Verse] Look, I can't get no satisfaction (Why?) I'm in a whole 'nother class of rapping Fast for 40 days and 40 nights Until I walked on the moon like Swagger Jackson It's a bird, it's a plane, it's a epic tale They saw my name on the forums and the blogs And they said, "He's a herb, he's a lame, it's a epic fail FOH, SMH, nigga ... LOL!" But what they didn't understand is according to statistics I'm supposed to be hanging from my neck in jail Or on a slab in the mortuary Freezing with a blank stare on my face, letting off a wretched smell I'm from the land of the smoking gun, smoking dices On the run with the Christ from the poltergeists-es Ducking death, chasing life like a ambulance Candy man, USB flip cam handy man You couldn't never catch me slipping on a grassy knoll Or at the bottom of a well screaming "Lassie, no!" I'm never spitting nothing lesser than a nasty cold I'm from the era of Gazelle shades and flashy gold A pair of Ballys, some Girbauds, and a classy Lo A pretty dime with a neck full of baby powder Putting time in, trying to get a baby out her Pull her hair, squeeze her neck, bring the crazy out herTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
