ubi – larry david lyrics
huh
kc
u b i
ces ces
sound sweet, sour me
you couldn’t get another, you couldn’t
you couldn’t get another, you couldn’t
ladies and gents, busy boys and girls
it’s the root of all evil, and it poisons worlds
when i get too much of it, i hear it’ll sour me
like uncle scrooge, with the money pit to devour me, huh
i’m getting by, sh-t ain’t fly and flowery
but what i need now is a bump in my salary
i give a h-ll about, sellin out
tell em bout, my slice, and ticket price, for shows, i’m sellin out
huh spell it out speak about it in three’s
see the pie gotta get me a piece piece piece
momma say mikey you so cheap cheap cheap
what i say momma please don’t weep, i gotta eat
[hook]
everything that you say sounds sweet, sour me
but that sugar rots your t–th, now you can’t speak
you couldn’t get another dollar outta me, uh uh
you couldn’t get another dollar outta me, uh uh
everything that you say sounds sweet, sour me
but that sugar rots your t–th, now you can’t speak
you couldn’t get another dollar outta me, uh uh
you couldn’t get another dollar outta me, uh uh
they want me to take em to deep–
sp-ce and teach em how to breathe
put em into a deep sleep, teach em how to dream
dig a body up out a grave, and teach it how to live
throw a kitten into a river, and teach it how to swim
it’s like, mario teaching luigi how to win
some, people will tell you to teach a frisbee how to spin, huh
people will talk, like he be about a bill
sh-t, i’ll probably be that way, til i see about a mill
all they know is hustle and shine, teach em how to sk!ll
so they lost, i’mma find them, lead them out the field
cause that tall gr-ss will blind them, i remind them
of why, they on they grind, and their reason for rhyme
[hook]
well if it don’t make a dollar, it don’t make cents
if it don’t make them hotter, that don’t make em dense
ya’ll don’t be makin hits, don’t shift blame
what ya’ll wrote don’t make sense, dope sh-t’s playin
there’s a difference between the two, i won’t explain
should be easy for even you, i don’t fix lames
everything that you sayin sound, sugar-shack sweet
now your mouth is full of rotten, lookin black t–th
please, please, you couldn’t squeeze
blood outta stone
or love outta home
blunts outta my zone
i’m all outta loans, all out on my own
and i’m all about the dough, all about the dough
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