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Din effects, spiracle asshole, taking shitty Mc tongues to the frozen flagpole I farted family functions, landing punches in the face of life I paid the grand three hundred for my beat machine, my body I keep it clean, by eating vegetables, while you claim indestructible I made 'em feel uncomfortable by talking about my hemroids And now my parakeet's unemployed, I enjoyed watching old men put pens oil all inside the engines, while eating cookies kept in tin foil I been spoiled, like an underwear that's been soiled by my opponents When I assemble my microphone kit, most kids are mere domeless I wonder what they folks did to make 'em think they flow swift with broken focus Vocals??? are sung, while my guitar is strung, and inplugged to make the hip hop Pure it's cents up, sure it's ten bucks to come and see me at a show But when I stage dive into jello you won't care about the dough But if you still think my shit is wack, you'll get you're money back And then you leave the show, running into two men with funny hats They'll beat the fuck out of you and take your wallet out of your back pocket After that you swell up in the high sockets, then I'll finish my show and go to The parking lot to meet the two men, who then put your loot in my pocket I try jocking myself but that didn't work, after I realised that God was watching with a hidden smirk, I shit a turd that stunk the house for three weekends Instead of RnB bitches, I do my hooks with Japanese kids [Chorus: Japanese Kid Singing] So Sing it Shitface Letras de cancionesOoh, I love farting in the bathtub, at clubs, at home On the road, in your face unload, in your eyeball Fart while walking on the sidewalk, after nightfall To the point you spray lights all, despite all the things That the people might say, I grab my genitals and tell'em have a nice day The right way, to grab a mic is constantly exhibiting If I mean, then the MC knows he's unlimited, it's intimate like water splashing on the coast lines where I go to town meetings And on the bulletin board I post rhymes, most times don't give a fuck about what you telling me I get excited and crash your third grade spelling bee and just as a girl named Bethany is about to win my spelling cheese I interrupt the train of thought by yelling freeze And when she sees that I'm nothing but a prankster she tells the teacher, but I proceed to go And yank her for her title, of third grade vocabulary champion she starts to cry, I say : that's what you get for tampering with the wordsmith, with the verb gift The principal got nervous, when I ran into his office shirtless what's the purpose of terrorising elementary schools? I don't know, but I penetrate your brain with entry tools Narratives from the battletongue my record collection consists of twenty-two copies of Aqualung atheling is what I need to rock a venue I then do some percolating shit on the wheels to cold end you got the versatility of ten dudes, next stop my little shitface friend Serves a chorus up from the menu So Sing it shitface [chorus: Japanese Kid Singing] From Letras Mania