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| 311 : Nutsymptom |
The cold funk has you sunk feel the mids pump
Blessed are those who erupt when we turm up
Right now we corrupt
Cons the shades we don in the neon night
We're gonna feed on the mics and blast through a pipe
I gotta feed on the mics and blast through a pipe
I gotta cool capability to toast and ill
Yo my daddy told me, "Hey son you must act chill"
Alien rough
My galaxy is tough
Here comes the bang of a hip-hop thang that we bring and swing
Men from Mars aint ever gonna hang
With dope Buddha's come to the stage we are attackin
Space assassin naked live and never slackin
Come a day on the way enter on S.A.
Amplified form another world far away
I got the pang of a gang and I come from the Southside
Here's the thang that I bring and I promise to come live
While the masses passes upon there fucking asses
And if you don't see get glasses
That is a shot out to the words of Curt Grubb
The motherfucker is not scrub I said the man is the kind
With the one that I call Brine Shrimp
We nover ever do skimp I limp on a stage in a huff
Like magic dragon I puff on the stuff of a Humbolt cone
Then I'm stonded watch out
Smoke the weed that come from Northern California
Don't do no cocaine that come from Columbia
That the thing that mash up your nature
Mash up your body and mash up your culture
Take a tip from the the flipped script of Daddy Freddy
I give complete props to the one that rocks steady
With dexterity and goes on and on and on
And turn out the dope shit like the one that's called
Pawn Shop Press yes it's on what's up
P-Nut change it up
One time from your mind watch out
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