Tracky Birthday - Balla! lyrics

I'm taking off like a Russian rocket Double-A battery packs in my pocket Fresh like a supermarket Don't make sense at all, well f** it I'm sorry 'bout our phony mails But I love to see your pony tails In motion, up and down While I take you to funky town Rollercoasting, sandwich toasting Getting up at stage and disco ghosting Posting on my blog [?] Cause I'm fancy, trancy, underpantsy Dirty like a sidewalk on Delancey Cracky, whacky, what-the-hacky Last name Birthday, girls call me Tracky Night life, we just fear it Smells like teens without spirit But don't you be afraid Tracky Birthday go make you sweat till eight With his armpit beaver, disco fever Rocking till he convinced every disbeliever So please may I suggest To the ladies in this room to shake your chest This like one guy high on crack Taking this sh** outside your door He said "hey co*k s**er Get lost motherf**er I told you once before" He just looks up, right at you While squeezing out the biggest sh** He asks you for a light You go back inside While the guy takes another hit It goes one for the money, two for the money Three for the money, and four for the money Was it ever about anything but the money Hip-hop more commercial than the Easter-bunny Let's rock, you don't stop Make your fat a**es go pop-lock-a-drop What the f** is up at dub the Tracky beat I'm the uber-youtuber Doogie Howser German Schnauzer Schnitzel Stroganoff Ha**elhoff Masel tov Molotov co*ktail, pot whale Better go home and inhale That stuff that you like to Nobody, nobody can dance like Nobody, nobody can dance like Nobody, nobody can dance Nobody, nobody can dance like you I like the way you move girl Up, shake it up, shake it up, come on Nobody, nobody can dance like Nobody, nobody can dance Nobody, nobody can dance like you that is Nobody, nobody can dance like you That's right Break it down, will you?