I got the science, like appliances I’m buzzin’
I’m chillin’ at my family reunion, hittin’ on my hot half cousin
In the circle, I’m wonderin’ did you skip me?
I’m a fucking vegetarian the only meat I eat is little hippies
Hot like fries from Andy Capp
I’m blowin’ up like the drummer from Spinal Tap
I’m speakin’, slow and low\go go gadget flow
Rollin’ down the street shoutin’ Thunder Cats (Hooooooooooooo)
Groove director, the bass line inspector
I wanna sound like the black dudes from my old blues records
I’m getting’ down deep, below the pan handle
Watch the world melt around me like a candle
Watch the Simpson’s and feeling like a pimp\
Higher than the price of gas or the good year blimp
I do the Tighten Up, when I’m pickin’ up the slack
Like to sing it when I bring it, bring it back

I sing a chorus in my taurus when I’m sipping on a yahoo
Car crash on 19 to white trash honolulu

We got gansta wanna-bes and emo kids
We got scientologists a flippin’ their lids
We have a never ending array of mini shopping malls
Pall Malls, Roasted peanuts and poetry in bathroom stalls
Back the fuck up, never seen a monster truck with rims
Original Floridians and born again Christians
Rock rhymes form the Gulf of Mexico to Lake Placid
I’m like Johnny Cash except on Nyquil and acid
I’m like a slightly happier Kurt Cobain
I’m like a ghettofied gangster hip hop Mark Twain
I got the 3 to the 4 to the Slaughter House Five
Remix on a boot leg Ableton Live
Rhymes you rocking, I ain’t into it man
Like internet juke boxes, a million bands I can’t stand
Beach bums getting high and drunk in the sun and sand
Bring it back, God damn

Stickman just a sipping on a can of Slurm
Old school break dancing, just a doing the worm
And the robot, Gobots and Transformers
More than meets the eye

We got traffic jams and body slams
Plastic people and Fantastic Sams
Plastic tits benefits from Myspace Friends
I’m coming up so fast I could be catchin’ the bends
So duck duck goose, I got more juice than an orange
Speakin’ of bedsprings squeakin’ and creakin' like a door hinge
The fun’s begun when the sunlight fades
Car shows, homos and boat parades
I live on the west coast of an east coast state
I’m higher than Tony the Tiger with Cocain on his Frosted Flakes
getting’ geared up to rob the Foot Locker
It ain’t a gang sign bitch, I’m holdin’ up the shocker
Just burn and unlearn all the things ya’ know
Snow birds coming down just to score some blow
I nailer in the trailer, I slam ya’ in your campa
I rock Mike and Ike’s from the Bronx down to Tampa
Club full of zombies, dance floor of the dead
If you ain’t under the spell, it’s cuz it’s over your head
It never snows, motherfucker but the hurricane blows
live my life on stage; a live reality show
Except no editing or censorship So turn your TV off
and get on with it
Drop bombs and shit, Not a multi corporation conglomerate
Grass roots, rolling like fruit boots
Eatin’ Fruity pepples and Fruit Loops
Old school jazz loops with flutes
Ladders and Shoots, I’m tellin’ the truth, I’m coming out of the booth
but I don’t mean to trouble ya’
Not everyone down here is down with George W.
Fireball, Kids in the Hall and Ron Howard
I singing accapella while I’m pissin’ in the shower
Mr. Miagi, ‘till the break of dawn
Wax off, wax on and I’m gone.