mc chris - don't give a turd lyrics
alright i’m a do it well clear the d-mn 20th song out.
now i’m a just test this out my uh heh heh heh my uh let me just down this to 170 and do it well with the heli-lee alright keep it on the huli-loo.
(i came to new york city in the winter of 1995 and the city hasn’t been the same since. on your marks, get set, go)
(my earphones alright i like to sing about many things and i am also the number one rapper. i’m a super rapper.)
dessert on island steal my rhymes and style
cause your phone numbers i’m dailin’
i got you on the list like you were tv dinner
every time i see you bite i say i wish you were thinner
no beginner, professional sinner
at the indy 500 i’m a first place winner
nymy been very very good to me
watchin’? say i’m the epitome
verbal ecstasy girls get next to me
best spot vasectomy want many baby mcs
don’t test me eats like elvis pressly
and my favorite kinda dog is a wesley
i don’t give a t-rd [x6]
i said don’t give a t-rd
cause don’t give a t-rd
hey mc chris what don’t you give
man i don’t give a t-rd
oh i get it
mc bucks is on the bones cause the beat won’t stop
mc chris on the zone he’s the cream of the crop
i like the book capone on my own i hop
don’t need no cooler do my own doo-wop
i can flop in the puddle at the bottom of the telephone
rap a little do the spits got pop my soul
clip clip bull sh-t and a gopher hole
cherry flip fresh prince and a napkin cold
just a bunch of words here’s where a t-rd
cuts you off in traffic and flip the bird
spins the bird pride like curb
name is mc chris and yo i don’t give a t-rd
i don’t give a t-rd [x6]
say give a t-rd
i don’t give a t-rd
i don’t give a t-rd
to all the people in the west i don’t give a t-rd
to all the people in the east say i don’t give a t-rd
can’t we all get along east coast, west coast rappers?
yeah i don’t give a t-rd
i don’t give a t-rd
(i don’t give a t-rd [x11])
don’t give a t-rd
don’t give a t-rd
and you can give me a t-rd you want me to drive back and put it in your hand
a t-rd, a t-rd do you hear what i’m sayin’ (what? what?) t-u-r-d
it was a three hour h-ll ride by eight o clock pm me and my fans got put up by the underground
my rock show was messed up
my rock show was messed up
my rock show was messed up
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