Lyrics
Hello... Nah. Roasted pork swung on Fork go tongue. All my exes has one thing in common, they all say Hams nice but not too nice, dunn care 'bout ice but large lungs, shoots dice very nice likes to get drunk likes punk, zen like a monk, different view on life almost sunk, refused crates of crunk but dealt planes of junk Well hung.. Man.. catch me if you can charmin' as a skunk wit my architectural plan Glue in lungs'n''oh-4-2 or was it '4-2-oh wit cheese fondue, guess I just stack, W-W-W Back room.. Need to be back soon Push a cream of entire bodys'n'do a cartwheel I hope her dream lies wit storks. (thats rude!) Did ya catch that, ya dorks?.. .. ..Hardly... Has a white mask , Batmans nemesis axed for it back Rap chemist wit bad manners Taste suffers at McDonald's so I shipped it to a food bank Safer than Anne Frank in my tank while doin' partly menial tasks like Bane or Venom, Like Tom Hardy Face Puller, Name Butcher, Tape Cutter, Guess tonight is yet another late supper. I got that gift, I got that force to be reckoned wit (HAAYAA!) So say the source of reports or take it from the horses mouth Kitchen hierarchy strong'n'disciplined like the Paraguayan, Army, Y'all can't disarm me I or I, or we, or us Fly in V-formations no matter who we facin' I smell Cremation 'lil Brief ovations wit my word associations. Ice-Hockey, High copy. Might copy. Copy, my copy? Not likely. iced coffee kamikaze Mister Miyagi, karate kid Wax on. Wax off. Crane-kick No witness. top-score on my Atari, I did I'll show up'n'forbid biker parties it seems. I might one day, get that white Ferrari.