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edan – sing it, shitface lyrics


donavex, lyrical -sshole, taking sh-tty mc tongue to the frozen flagpole
i farted family functions, landing punches in the face of life
i paid the grand and three hundred for my beat machine,
(my body)i keep it clean, by eating vegetables, while you claim indestructible
i made ’em feel uncomfortable by talking about my hemorrhoids
and now my parakeet’s unemployed, i enjoyed watching old men
put pennzoil inside their engines, while eating cookies kept in tin foil
i been spoiled, like the underwear that’s been soiled by my opponents
when i -ssemble my microphone kit, most kids are mere dome-less
i wonder what they folks did to make ’em think they flow swift with broken focus
folk hymns are sung, while my guitar is strung, and then plucked to make the hip-hop purists tense up,
sure it’s ten bucks to come and see me at a show
but when i stage dive into jell-o you won’t care about the dough
but if you still think my sh-t is wack, you’ll get your money back
and then you leave the show, running into two men in funny hats
they’ll beat the f-ck out of you and take your wallet out of your back pocket
after that you swell up in the eye-sockets, then i’ll finish my show and go to
the parking lot and meet the two men, who then put your loot in my pocket
i tried jocking myself but that didn’t work, after i realized that god was
watching with a hidden smirk, i sh-t a t-rd that stunk the house for three weekends
instead of r’n’b b-tches, i do my hooks with j-panese kids

(chorus: j-panese)

(so sing it sh-tface)

ooh, i love farting in the bathtub, at clubs, at home
on the road, in your face unload, in your eyeball
fart while walking on the sidewalk, after nightfall
to the point you spray lysol, despite all the things
that the people might say, i grab my genitals and tell ’em have a nice day
the right way, to grab a mic is constantly exhibited
by me, and the mc knows he’s unlimited, it’s imminent
like water splashing on the coast lines
where i go to town meetings
and on the bulletin board i post rhymes, most times
don’t give a f-ck about what you telling me
i get excited and crash a third grade spelling bee
and just as a girl named bethany is about to win my spelling “cheese”,
i interrupt the train of thought by yelling “freeze!”
and when she sees that i’m nothing but a prankster
she tells the teacher, but i proceed to go
and yank her for her t-tle, of third grade vocabulary champion
she starts to cry, i say: “that’s what you get for tampering
with the wordsmith, with the verb gift,”
the princ-p-l got nervous, when i ran into his office shirtless
what’s the purpose of terrorizing elementary schools?
i don’t know, but i penetrate your brain with entry tools
narratives from the battletongue
my record collection consists of twenty-two copies of aqualung
half a lung is what i need to rock a venue
i then do some herculean sh-t on the wheels to code: end you
got the versatility of ten dudes, next stop my little sh-tfaced friend
serves a chorus up from the menu

(chorus: j-panese )
(so sing it sc-mbag… yeah!)