Bully
(Fuck)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, thank you everybody for coming out tonight
Show will begin in a few seconds, please be seated
Yeah, you're welcome
Uh, I swear to god I'm gonna fucking go ape-shit
If one more person say the word that rhymes with (fag)
SHUT UP! (Ah!)
Shut your fucking mouth! (Agh!)
Jeez, I'm getting out this fucking house
These assholes are driving me insane, I'm on caution
24 hours, 7 days, a week
Seen eyes through the lies
Of these crude, crazed young crackers in white sheets
Somewhere along the line I lost my contacts
Somewhere between the calm and the bomb threats
Tiger blood, tiger blood, on my way to Michigan
I stopped in Jamaica and found my Daddy's certificate
84-61, 'fro like a panther, eyes like the sun
Pretty baby boy, yeah I knew you was the one
When I tried to give you milk and you reached for my gun, my son
Daddy are you here?
I know its been a long time, but
I miss you...
I hope you miss me, too
I hope that you grow grow up to be a preacher
And tell these dumb-ass niggas about Jesus
Your body's a temple, so no ink, honey
(Got a Laughing Man tattoo, it cost me all my tax money)
Ugh, my arm's sleeve, my jeans tight
I follow niggas like Twitter, only in real life
I am a robot, do what I'm programmed
The army said that I could be all I could be
So I figured, I'd just be anybody but me
Soaking in the pressure of adolescence, I can't see
But neither could Ray, and he played keys
So did Stevie, but Goddamn, nigga, they never had DIRECTV
Distractions, motherfuck a passion
I just wanna play some Red Faction
Damn, in 2050 I'll be 60
Probably begging god to forgive me, like
"Jesus! I didn't mean to push your buttons,"
"And even when I pressed 'em, I swear I never meant it"
"I've got my whole life to live, why the fuck you give me kids?"
I guess I'll try to fake through it, I didn't really mean to make you
I just, uh, was trying to get a nut in
Now I'm a husband, damn
Daddy are you here?
I know its been a long time, but
I miss you...
I hope you miss me, too
Thank you very much, have a good day, everyone
Thank y'all, yeah
Thank you, thank you very much
Yeah, yeah
Parkour, parkour!
Parkour, parkour!
Story of my life, every chick I ever dated either cheated
Or told me I was too damn nice to ever be called worthy
That's around the time I started fucking these white chicks
And hanging up the phone on these Black bitches, they worthless
No, I ain't ever been a bitch
I mean what I do, if you got a fucking problem solve it, or fuck you
I'm a legend in my head, an icon
These not-so-bright emcees hear my name and cut the lights on
Put emphasis on talent, 'cause I work too hard
To have some hipster say I don't sound like some Mogwai album
Pop another valium on the way to the whip
'Till those kids said they ain't heard of Kiss, I'm like
"Bitch, this ain't no indie-pop mister!"
Hip-hop is all I know
You wanna be trendy? Go catch a fucking deer hunter show
You just another extra in a fucked up family role
Wanna be a rapper, Daddy was a no-show
I know, I know, "Yeah you too"
Now everybody wanna be the next Boy Blue
No, I'm not impressed by your impressive collection
Of, uh, indie-pop hits from 1997
No, I didn't vote for Obama in the election
No, I don't think America plotted 9-11
Yes, I am a freak, no, my Daddy didn't love me
Now turn around and give me all your goddamn lunch money
Motherfucker, run them shits
Yeah, yeah, yeah, thank you everybody for coming out tonight
Show will begin in a few seconds, please be seated
Yeah, you're welcome
Uh, I swear to god I'm gonna fucking go ape-shit
If one more person say the word that rhymes with (fag)
SHUT UP! (Ah!)
Shut your fucking mouth! (Agh!)
Jeez, I'm getting out this fucking house
These assholes are driving me insane, I'm on caution
24 hours, 7 days, a week
Seen eyes through the lies
Of these crude, crazed young crackers in white sheets
Somewhere along the line I lost my contacts
Somewhere between the calm and the bomb threats
Tiger blood, tiger blood, on my way to Michigan
I stopped in Jamaica and found my Daddy's certificate
84-61, 'fro like a panther, eyes like the sun
Pretty baby boy, yeah I knew you was the one
When I tried to give you milk and you reached for my gun, my son
Daddy are you here?
I know its been a long time, but
I miss you...
I hope you miss me, too
I hope that you grow grow up to be a preacher
And tell these dumb-ass niggas about Jesus
Your body's a temple, so no ink, honey
(Got a Laughing Man tattoo, it cost me all my tax money)
Ugh, my arm's sleeve, my jeans tight
I follow niggas like Twitter, only in real life
I am a robot, do what I'm programmed
The army said that I could be all I could be
So I figured, I'd just be anybody but me
Soaking in the pressure of adolescence, I can't see
But neither could Ray, and he played keys
So did Stevie, but Goddamn, nigga, they never had DIRECTV
Distractions, motherfuck a passion
I just wanna play some Red Faction
Damn, in 2050 I'll be 60
Probably begging god to forgive me, like
"Jesus! I didn't mean to push your buttons,"
"And even when I pressed 'em, I swear I never meant it"
"I've got my whole life to live, why the fuck you give me kids?"
I guess I'll try to fake through it, I didn't really mean to make you
I just, uh, was trying to get a nut in
Now I'm a husband, damn
Daddy are you here?
I know its been a long time, but
I miss you...
I hope you miss me, too
Thank you very much, have a good day, everyone
Thank y'all, yeah
Thank you, thank you very much
Yeah, yeah
Parkour, parkour!
Parkour, parkour!
Story of my life, every chick I ever dated either cheated
Or told me I was too damn nice to ever be called worthy
That's around the time I started fucking these white chicks
And hanging up the phone on these Black bitches, they worthless
No, I ain't ever been a bitch
I mean what I do, if you got a fucking problem solve it, or fuck you
I'm a legend in my head, an icon
These not-so-bright emcees hear my name and cut the lights on
Put emphasis on talent, 'cause I work too hard
To have some hipster say I don't sound like some Mogwai album
Pop another valium on the way to the whip
'Till those kids said they ain't heard of Kiss, I'm like
"Bitch, this ain't no indie-pop mister!"
Hip-hop is all I know
You wanna be trendy? Go catch a fucking deer hunter show
You just another extra in a fucked up family role
Wanna be a rapper, Daddy was a no-show
I know, I know, "Yeah you too"
Now everybody wanna be the next Boy Blue
No, I'm not impressed by your impressive collection
Of, uh, indie-pop hits from 1997
No, I didn't vote for Obama in the election
No, I don't think America plotted 9-11
Yes, I am a freak, no, my Daddy didn't love me
Now turn around and give me all your goddamn lunch money
Motherfucker, run them shits
Credits
Writer(s): Devon Hendryx
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.