Lyrics

Advice; Receiving it’s nice
But what you gonna do when you roll the dice
Yo son, Quit the shit or you’re done
Nobody’s gonna like you if you can’t have fun

Mind movin’, summer time groovin’
Stay laid back with Steady Matt the track sounds so soothing
I’m supposing that you’ve chosen to get with the new
They call me Chilly Willie cause I’m frozen through and through
I got so many rhymes that I don’t know what to do
The mic is a pipe bomb, bike check 1 – 2
I flow slowly with some old school poetry
I’m actually a nice guy once you get the chance to know me
My brain grows as the day goes to the size of eight Winnebago’s
I take writer’s blocks and paint ‘em day glow and build a song like the was legos
I tell the truth I never try to hide it
I never smoke a bowl I only smoke the weed inside it
When I sing swing your hips, hold tight like roach clips
Spend my time with vampire, raccoons and ghost ships
Afternoons on the moon, yawn, I go to bed at dawn
Count sheep that beat box while I’m sleeping on the lawn

Get your mind movin’Start cruising Live life on the run
Summer time grooving Smile when your losing Don’t give up ‘till your done

Mind bended, ascended masters above me
Look down; say Stickman, that last round of rhymes was lovely
I’m Dr. Karuthers, got prescriptions for others
Sadly, I got more game than Milton Bradley and Parker Brothers
I’ll sink your battle ship while I’m connecting four
Right foot red got you twisted on the floor
Tweak you nipple when I’m coming with the triple word score
Professor Plume’s in the study, but I’m out the door
I’m a crocodile dentist on a trivial pursuit
Mad hatter on the ladder while your sliding down the shoot
Hitchhiking down the road in this game of life again
Hungry, hungry hippo cept the marbles are vicodin
Remove your funny bone and I charge a fee
I won the beauty contest and got out of jail free
Soda Pop Curtis, the word is feel the fizzle
I’m like Snoop Dog in the rain; I’m coming with the drizzle

Step one, put the paper to tongue
Blow your worries in a bubble don’t pop it till it’s done
Step two, limit what you say
A lone man keeps talking friends drift away
Step three, cheddar melts to bree
The fine wine of your mind corn pops your free
Step four, to the freaks to the floor
Put some ? to your booty then define it some more
Step five, the barometer flies
Puff clouds gather steam for the weather divine
Step six, flames flicker from wicks
Smoke swirls from Stick into the stereo mix
Step seven, put the gloves on the bat
Yeah all the down players always hit it like that
Step eight, no it’s not about you
It’s the sun, it’s the moon, it’s the ball it’s the cue
Step nine, said this will all be fine
Stick’s skills, seeking thrills, chills up your spine
Step ten, write a message hit send
Take a shower, wait a week, do it over again