Sam Bra** Knuckles - f** Owls lyrics

[Intro] Mr Owl, how many licks does it take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop? Let's find out One, two-hoo, three- [Gunshot noise] Don't take my f**ing Tootsie Pop, b**h [Verse 1] Now what smells so foul that you gotta hold your nose? You gonna need a towel and a spare set of clothes It'll empty its bowels from your head to your toes While it flies overhead I howl at that prick and I wish he was dead That f**er scowls back at me and tries to sh** on my head So pissed that I growl my rage, all that I see is red Do you know what I'm talking about? How 'bout now? I'm talking about a motherf**ing owl I pull a piece out, aim at you and I shoot Peace out, you're dead now, I don't give a hoot I give less than a sh**, I don't give a poot No one thinks that owls are cute, all they do is pollute I get a shotgun, the bullets distribute into your feather suit And if you don't die from that, I'll squeeze you like a fruit Fresh! Go ahead, call me a brute But I k**ed the owl so people salute [Chorus: Sample] One, two-hoo, a-three How many licks does it take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop? The world may never know One, two-hoo, a-three How many licks does it take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop? The world may never know [Bridge] Mister Owl, how many kicks does it take to get to the bloody center of an owl's skull? Just one, b**h [Verse 2] If birds had school, you'd be the misfit freak no one likes You got a tiny beak f**ing eyes that never blink When you try to speak, all you say is "Hoot" and you stink If I rapped with you for seven days, I'd call it a weak week You hoot, but most birds say cheep cheep I'll poke you in the eye, make you cry, make you weep weep Then I'll put your head on the street And curb stomp your beak C-curb stomp your beak And wash your blood in my goddamn sink What do you think? Match the span of your jaw to your goddamn wings And your head turns round 180 degrees Who gives a sh**? Not me You sitting and staring from the branch of my tree Make like the tree and f**ing leave I'll punch a hole in you, get blood on my sleeve Go ahead prick, try to plead for your life But you're already f**ed, so there's no need [Chorus: Sample] One, two-hoo, a-three How many licks does it take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop? The world may never know One, two-hoo, a-three How many licks does it take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop? The world may never know