The Goats - Cumin' in Ya Ear lyrics

Chorus: Comin' in ya ear with a mic and a drum (x3) Comin' in ya ear with a mic [Swayzack] Ya better believe that I'll be dreamin' of a black Chrismas And at the top of my list is a fatspliff And ya know it's a hoota of the Buddah blessed True to the blue cause I got sigma on my chest And I won't rest because our cause speeds on its way It's on our way, we're on our way, the S I G M A So what do you say? What do you know? Where would you like to go? To the step show with a pro or with a falsetto And what I mean is a weaker speaker who can't see the light He cooks his rhymes in a breaker puts 'em in a pipe I'm not the type, I'm not the type, I say it one more time I'm not the type to be sublime in any rhyme of mine [Madd] I heard you wasn't down with these Philly mutherf**ers Instead of Welches Grape you used some sh** called Smuckers Well knucker, I'm here ta letyou know just what I think o' that To quote my man Chico "Smooth move Ex-Lax" Ya slippin' tryin' ta keep pace with the driver But you can't even catch my saliva From drippin', I'm spittin', all over you like Pippen Scottie beam me up cause all these lunatics are flippin' Like a tumbler, I'm the rumbler, not Stevie but wonder Not a stumbler or a blumbler over words that you can't understand My man, 50 grand, shakin' hands If I had a bird brain last name... I'd be Dan [OaTie] While I get mine, ya bitin' rhymes like a canine Day nine in line welfare line time A pro lifer is the piper that I'd like ta uh Roll up roll up roll on {line style ala O. Konfusion} If it is the early morning dawn, I'll sing that song like Orlando Tony, a white man, not a leader just a man too Saying what ya can't do cause ya typed it in stereo Like seeing a doughnut and calling it a Cheerio Heroes and heroes and h**nes I'm here ta rectify all the comin's and goin's This moment in time is defined by ambiguity Plausible denial, no trials is the beauty Chorus [Swayzack] Draw the line because ya know the Jack-in-the-box will cross it And just in time cause for your mind I think they said ya lost it I said ya lost it, one more time, ya lost it! Ya paid the cost for tryin' to be something that you're not A big shot but what ya got is a small spot And you can get a lickety lick lick shot, yeah Cause Jack-in-the-box is not drivin' Mrs. Daisy I get what I got but not from old white ladies (damn!) So save that shady sh** for somebody's Uncle Tom I ain't related, ya hate it when I drop a bomb [Madd] Coo Coo ca chew I'm the Goats who are you? Grab the microphone and do that thing that you do Ya call it rhymin', ha, that's so funny I forgot ta laugh I made better sounds than that come out crack of my a** On my first day, on my worst day, and even in my hearse day You couldn't write a rhyme, if I gave you the first verse Ta play with sorta sloppily but make sure you gives props to me I don't play games so damn I hates Monopoly I'm the macho, hancho, nacho eatin' Like Tanto, I'm yo, smooth as a motherf**er [OaTie] 1 2 I'm gettin' ta be the who's who Of the food for the thinkers I don't tinker with the winkers Like I, Hop, I drop props at all hours Like Psycho, I might go stab Duke in the shower Doobie Doo Doobie Doo Scoobie Doo Doobie Da Yaaa! Rhyme sayer, not a mayor, I don't pretend to be a player Flava, I hope the dopes listen to Chief Seattle He's not one for the battle or the paddle or the saddle Like Lite Beer from Miller, it is and that's that Like Rhyme beer from k**er, it's the sh** and phat's phat Spelled with a "P" just like in tel-tel-telephone Livin' in North Philly's a form of hell-hell-hell-hell a home... not Chorus *Shoutouts*