[Intro: (laugh)]
[Talking:] Trust Me bro...I know your in the building rapper...studio's are always in buildings man...there not outside...give a speech
Somebody said the cla**ics never go outta style
But thats a stupid thing to say because they actually do
And judgein' by the people that are settin all the standards
All of us go outta style too
Oh Lordy Loo
I swear to christ I'm sure to screw or somethin
Now the only music bumpin is that 1980s band es pop rap
Id rather beat a dead horse than throw a saddle on it and ride it (man it ain't goin nowhere)
You ever seen an irish pot head that flows with no hair?
I gotta little buddah belly but I don't really care
See I could never date a girl thats on a magazine cover
Cause self absorbed women don't make good lovers mother f**er
Just because its hard to write don't make it smart and bright I'm painten with the mothers of invention
Bring my art to life
Deliver menacing glows and now my nicotene flows throughout my bloodstream so I'ma give a rivet and show and paint a message its like I scraped the edges of my razor up against my wrist but eh...its nothin major cuz only punk mother f**ers call the cops and blow a hot bubble a poison till it pops
[Chorus]
Now you can find me in the burgs
And you can find me in the streets
Until you wonder what happened to me...to me
You gotta trust that I'm just smokin' somethin
Dealin with the motions, pumpin beats, tryna set the style free
I wanna piece of the rotten apple pie
Gotta make it bounce cuz you know its do or die
I wanna piece of the rotten apple pie
I gotta make it bounce cuz you know its do or die
In 1997 I would smack my teacher with my purple Trapper-Keeper
Rockin Stan Smiths and an Ol Dirty ba*tard t-shirt
Bingo, now I'm hittin a six, in the high school lunchroom, with liquor to mix
Let's save the charts. I'm healin y'all from all the wasted art you're feelin (man)
I wish that I could get pregnant with Ava Gardner's children (damn)
Instead, I'm doin the twirl, as I watch text messages ruin the world (and technology, period)
I'm waitin for the day we can burn copies of each other's girlfriends and skip the technology period.
Cause Aunt Flow's an old fashioned gal, and computer love just ain't her style (gross)
Lordy Lou all I wanna do is make it til I'm 42 so I can feel just in every grouchy thing I say or do.
Until then you better watch out for that tailspin,
No I'm not a rapper I'm a used car salesman.
[Chorus]
Hey, Sku, scratch my vocals right here.
This is motherf**in music to drive-by to.