Get up funky... huh, let me here ya talk, about bitch
Me I'm a victim of a young girl's Feeling the emotions through my ass butt Everytime I see her in that god damned the stomach, busy stomach, that's what I have to confess
Ah, that's me ya you see ya Telling my stomach and my feels ya Ah that's me ya, see ya Telling bout, bout me ya
is a thing that everybody knows about Every boy and bitch so myself I mustn't worry Easy to find, huh, hard to So me myself and I, we got no chance to
I can't ya what I feel ya is a motherfucking problem that I hate ya I can't tell ya I feel ya I hate it but I take it but I try to ya
Fuck, fuck, fuck, said fuck the facts Fuck, said fuck, fuck, fuck the facts
In addition to the point I was about You must remember my name and all my and my attitude So to the things that I've got to tell My is G on the B.A.S.S. B.G
Hit the bass in the face seven days of the ya Hanging 'round my posse that's what needs ya Me and my band, that's I stay for - stay for Me and my band, that's what I for - pray for
has a use for my personality Cause if I'd loose it I wouldn't stand it if you know mean My heart is percent music that's what I feel ya - feel ya I feel the kick in my B.O.D.Y. so
I try to combine my emos to the bitch hit Try to fight it with my music as I try to my fucking emos to the bitch hit Try to combine it with my as hatred
What my girl, man? What about my music, Ina bona I can't that shit...