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watkin tudor jones - you are ok lyrics

undercover off duty ray-ban refleksie
brown patchwork, leather jacket feeling s-xy
fly kwaai by die braai, dop skop my hond en c0ke
poes cool met die moer my vrou tipe flow

sibot, embark till fingertip shrivel, spit dribble
flip little sink a ship riddle
funky rhymes, i got a dark selection bottled
ready, distilled, like my thought collection
i get much more stupid than all these corny rappers
plus my dj’s like f-ckin intense (in-tents) like h-rny campers
hardcore, underground in the circle rhyming
weed smoking, no job having on the couch
crashing, end of the month
mom phoning haven’t made the break yet, deadheads
keep f-cking around getting nothing done dumb dumb
stuck in hundrum get stunned by stun gun
tongue undone
delivering gifts to the young ones

chorus:
i can’t help but think things you never ever thought before
sh-t wouldn’t ever been created if i wasn’t born
you don’t have to feel soo all irrelevant
i rap like a kid who hasn’t lost his powers yet

mmm, i got power
squeeze my b-ttcheeks tight, uh
sperm vampires have no hold on me
i’m very 2005 bc
i’m olden days like a golden age
float in the air plus my eyes glow
electric charge leap from my palms, don’t come near me
i’ve got pop to make ya ears bleed
you can’t handle this
i’m nice like my mom’s sandwiches
police wanna bite, i’ll add a giant c-ckroach
cos that’s the wrong approach
ya tired, used to be inspired now the funk’s blocked
why? cos its safe to suck c-ck
strictly un-edgy, all up in your corporate -rs- like a wedgie
put my self in a box, sell it to an evil demi-god
i’m full blast ya nearly half
you the frozen force, i’m a trojan horse
(i’m free inside you)
my background bang switch step visible
awesome, lets get physical

(chorus)

rappers don’t know what “one” is
they don’t believe in karma’s
i’m all about the dot-dot-dot
mmm
gggget a pulse from pulse
work it
sweat pours from my pores
people get live, cos rap got a drive in this jive
f-ck a nine to the five i’m all the time
dj f-ck cut the rapper up

one..one..one.. (rappers don’t know what one is)
two..two..three (tongue undone)
breakit

(chorus)

if ya young dumb full of c-m they can come ‘n get some
if you’re over 21, keep yourself in check son

- watkin tudor jones lyrics

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