Oh!Zone - "Hipster Hotel" lyrics

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Oh!Zone - "Hipster Hotel" lyrics

This is check-in But we can only enter if you let us in Make sure we're the right ones Not some ghost writers Telling out-of-date jokes they must work for David Letterman And I got a monster beat Like k**er Tofu video I'm k**ing it and eating it Like roadk** off the f**ing road Make sure you don't f**ing choke Sam Rockwell Rock hard, rock on, VHOh!zone Get your woolen caps here this world's coming to an end Like it's twenty-four months after 2010 Or your girlfriend now is simply just a friend Who's a girl like Hermione, Emma Watson So Oh!Zone's playing Sherlock Holmes To keep the people safe inside their homes Before that f**ing missile homes Somebody call a priest- Holmes This place is kind of fishy Like a Long-John Silver kitchen All the kids don't speak they're lipless And the bellboy don't have fingers Where b**hes like to listen to those copycats like Yu-Gi-Oh I'ma spit some fire for you like it is my duty, bro Used to be historical now it's just historic fiction Order off the dollar menu get that egg and bacon biscuit Take away the egg and bread and go back to your residence Girlfriend asks you what you're doing? Bringing home the bacon, b**h Now here is the bait and switch I'm a fraud like David Blaine My frights keep adding up and I can't even stop the f**ing train Yeah I've got a brain but only use a tenth of it The other nine parts counting up my money in percentages Of the sales that this EP is going to f**ing make So I don't gotta tell you that I'm drawing up a f**ing blank I wanna spend my savings, I don't even have a f**ing bank I'm banking it on cranking out the best EP I'll ever make And yeah this is a product of procrastination, David Lynch I hope to have twin peaks on the charts, my greatest hits I'm sittin in a barbershop don't even need my ears down Just pa**ing out my demo so my peers can get this ear sound And yeah they're all black but that's the point, man, you got me? I'm the only white kid like the inverse of Barney Ever since Simon Cowell told me I could not advance I've ramped up every part me like Hot Wheels by a Nascar fan Since I left you everything's been crumbling like an avalanche Sorry I was gone I was in Kelly Clarkson's underpants Call me Fleetwood call me Mac as long as you know how to dance And how to mac out like a Kraft employee with some bulging pants Check my pulse just to confirm that you are still alive enough And if you're not you can't come up, you are not invited brah