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west coast casual - butter lyrics

[intro: greg bananas (tuba) and nowuh]

[verse 1: tuba!]
bust onto the scene, should’ve heard me coming
flippys on my feet, hit the ground running
my sh-t is awesome, your sh-t is ratchet
wizard of o-z is dragging on my magic
abra cadabra, you are now a cadaver
indica makes me the hash-slinging slasher
mom, pop, and sis all hook me up for free
sargento– our family’s p-ssion is cheese

survival of the fittest, keeper of the bundles
hitting more trees than f-ckin’ george of the jungle
piece it together– alright, i’ll say it bluntly
when tuba gets hungry, tuba gets munchies
tuba gets crazy, tuba gets ravenous
and after the snacks, tuba is gelatinous
pop a laxative, h-ll, i take four packs
and then take a dump that’s bigger than snorlax
got my mind on my money and my money in a mattress
paychecks like bongloads– already cashed it
already spent it, already homeless
see me in an alley, already doming
you a bunch of p-ssy d-cks, playa– post-oppin’
b-tches getting sent like gervais post-office
whippin six-cylinders, yup we’re post-oxen
ta-ta, community– now we’re post-abed

[verse 2: nowuh]
keep my wallet in the bank cause it’s fat as f-ck
super glue on my d-ck, so her p-ssy is stuck
this isn’t a casino, don’t press your luck
because my sh-t is homemade and you just store-bought
if you keep your head right, you’ll be getting that head, right?
s-x like the sun, f-ckin’ going down erry night
call my -ss ripley, you just can’t believe
greenhouse in the back– all i’m growing is weed
b-tch, my dog’s bigger than the one from sandlot
cleaning up the game so you can call me clorox
bagels and lox, cause my tastebud’s hebrew
ill like jeremy lin when the week’s through
so much chronic filling up my bag
bought a couple pounds just a few weeks back
from this piece of sh-t man, i just don’t trust ’em
how am i supposed to get this f-cking bag through customs?
b-tches getting railed like a nosegrind, so fine
smoke 8 blunts, now i’m ready for the cloud 9
when the cash comes, that’ll be when the -ss comes
life like a movie, all closed-captioned
ready for the rapture, hanging from the rafter
she screamed like she saw a ghost named casper
f-cked with this girl but i learned to love her
giving handjobs like she used to churn b-tter

- west coast casual lyrics

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