a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

aristotle (rap) - buy you a beer lyrics

[intro]
(oh my god, who is that?)
(is that who i think it is?)
(oh my gosh it’s kenneth kaniff, i can’t believe he’s in my class!)
(i wonder if he has a girlfriend)

[verse 1]
ok i’m still in high school and i’ll be lucky to pass
i’m real good at most subjects but i’m sucky at math (do you need some help with that?)
my algebra class is past the last door on your left
at the end of the hallway near the bottom of steps
and when i get to class late, there’s nothing but sh+t
i get insulted by my teachers just for running my lip
i’m just trying to spit game to ninth+grade hoes
writing love letter and notes with x and os
like this one girl who sat next to me at a desk
i knew she liked me ‘cause she wouldn’t let me cheat off her text
and she was kind of cute too, but her tits ain’t developed
‘the time she’s sixteen, i bet them sh+t swell up
we exchanged numbers so i called on her phone
her mom’s picked up and i said “is jennifer home?”
she was screaming and yelling “now how old are you?”
“old enough to buy your daughter a cold case of brew”

[chorus: ken kaniff]
i’m twenty+one i’ve been in high school for six years
the only thing i learned is how to buy you a beer
when you’re standing in line, buying a three musketeers
i’m right behind you trying to buy you a beer
i bet your cheerleading friends try to tell you i’m weird
there’s nothing wrong with me trying to buy you a beer
and when your tits grow big and your zits disappear
me and you can celebrate with a six+pack of beer
[verse 2]
now what the f+ck is wrong with taking b+tches out for a drink
they got a mind of their own, screw what their parents will think
i’m ken kaniff, i like my p+ssy young and fresh
i’m off soft warm women with them b+cup br++sts
if it ain’t an a+cup or a white sports bra
i’m begging an 8th+grader to hit it raw dog
yo, it ain’t my fault that i’m in algebra 2
with these freshman women who be fiending for brew
see all i do is take ‘em out, i buy ‘em a beer
it ain’t my fault, when they get home, their panties disappear
their parents stay asking ‘em who got them drunk
but they forgot to ask who f+cked them in the back of the trunk
and that was me, connecticut+born, star+born
nine inches, thick like a stock of corn
so next time your high school kid’s in my class
you’ll know why your cupboard’s missing a glass

[chorus: ken kaniff]
i’m twenty+one i’ve been in high school for six years
the only thing i learned is how to buy you a beer
when you’re standing in line, buying a three musketeers
i’m right behind you trying to buy you a beer
i bet your cheerleading friends try to tell you i’m weird
there’s nothing wrong with me trying to buy you a beer
and when your tits grow big and your zits disappear
me and you can celebrate with a six+pack of beer
[verse 3]
all the senior girls hate me ‘cause i pay them no mind
you ain’t in ninth grade baby, then you’re wasting my time
at a grammar school it ain’t drank once in your life
sucking forty bottles like d+cks on homework nights
i like ‘em five foot three, less than a hundred pounds
with the beer belly rock hard solid around
you see i found this one chick with nipples and tits
that look brown and taste good like kibbles ‘n bits
she used to suck my corona till the lime was gone
her sh+t’s the bomb, i had her in bikini and thongs
but we never f+cked ‘cause that sh+t’s against the law
ok i’m lying, i just did her once with cops involved
yeah we boned, so what, i only hit it one time
it can’t be illegal to say that in a rhyme
it’s not like i’m twenty+nine, i’m still in high school
bottom dollar every freshman girl says i rule

- aristotle rap lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS