can he do what mine do? think you should say buh-bye. get up on the mic like a five on a fifty. quickly avoid the hickeys from the bucktoothed bitties. fake timberlake just to be by britney. smoke that pipe with whitney
shoot that blow with iggy. l.i.b
n.y.c. and all places in between
you could call me a mint cuz i make the green. i make the scene
i make believe that you all was naked
so i wouldn't have to fake it
just copy and paste it
like adobe photoshop
red foreman in robocop
i get up on the mic and you know i won't fuckin stop. it's like the props of carrot top
or yellow stains in my socks. you acting like you hip? you all hepped up on hops!
yo let's do the body rock
cuz the beat just be so bumpin
let's get our groove on before our carriage is a pumpkin
before they outlaw fuckin
not bad for a drunken munchkin. my name is mc chris welcome to my lyric luncheon. word up
word up
word up
word up and you know
oo-ow-oo-ow-oo-owowowow. name's mc
my band's the lee majors
put us on the bill
and boy ya hit paydirt. when i'm on the mic
the girlies wanna flizzirt
but i tell 'em chill like a dq blizzard help me
like a dq blizzard
d
d
q blizzard
help me
like a dq blizzard
d
d
q blizzard. half corn beef and cabbage
half fred savage. the better than average rapper with the have to have it habit. heir apparents on my carrot like they was jessica rabbit
like fake wood paneling on the side of station wagons. fraggle rock on the box
fruit loops on my chin
wonderin if i'm ever really gonna fit in
or be a son of a bitch with a gut and some tits
or a roaming casanova with my dick in a
i'll be back in a bit
i gotta floss my johnson
make that cream for the state wisconsin. you say all of my shit is complete nonsense
fuck my cd and the shitty ass contents. bullshit
my shit's the bomb. siamese twins want manage a trois. robot bitches want their backs massaged. they may not be real but them tits is large. word up