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mc chris - dq blizzard lyrics

your rapper- he’s whack dude, does he even try?
can he do what mine did? think you should say buh bye.

get up on the mic like a five on a fifty.
quickly avoid the hickeys of the bucktoothed bitties.
fake timberlake just to be by britney.
smoke that pipe with witney, shoot that blow with iggy.
l.i.b, n.y.c and all places in between,
you could call me a mint ’cause 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 f-ckin stop.
it’s like the props of carrot top, or yellow stains in my socks.
you acting like you hip? your all hepped up on hopps.
so, just do the body rock, cause the beat just be so b-mpin’.
let’s get our groove on before our carriage is a pumpkin,
before they outlaw f-ckin’, 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.

[chrous]
name’s mc, my band’s the lee majors.
put us on the bill, and boy ya hit paydirt.
when i’m on the mike, girlies wanna flizzirt,
but i tell’ em chill like a dq blizzard.
help me like a dq blizzard, d-dq blizzard.
help me like a dq blizzard, d-dq blizzard.

like corn beef and cabbage, half fred savage.
the better than average rapper with the, “have to have it,” habit.
their apperants on my carrot like they was jessica rabbit,
like fake wood paneling on the side of stationwagons.
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 b-tch with a gut and some t-ts,
or a roaming casanova with my d-ck in a cl-t.
i’ll be back in a bit, i gotta floss my johnson,
make that cream for the state wisconsin.
you say all of my sh-t is complete nonsense,
f-ck my cd and the sh-tty -ss contents.
bullsh-t, my sh-t’s the bomb.
siamese twins want menage a trois.
robot b-tches want their backs m-ssaged.
they may not be real but them t-ts is large.

(d-mn) word up, word up, word up, word up, and you know.

chorus

your rapper- he’s whack dude, does he even try?
can he do what mine did? think you should say buh bye.x2

- mc chris lyrics

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