Artist: 311
Song: nutsymtom
The cold funk has you sunk feel the mids pump
Blessed are those who erupt when we turn up
Right now we corrupt, cons the shades we don in the neon night
We're gonna feed on the mics and blast through a pipe
I gotta feed on the mics and blast through a pipe
I gotta cool capability to toast and ill, yo my daddy told me
"Hey son, you must act chill", alien rough, my galaxy is tough
Here comes the bang of a hip-hop thang that we bring and swing
Men from mars ain't ever gonna hang with dope Buddha's
Come to the stage we are attackin', space assassin naked live
And never slackin', come a day on the way enter on SA
Amplified form another world far away, I got the pang of a gang
And I come from the south side, here's the thang that I bring
And I promise to come live
While the masses passes upon there fucking asses
And if you don't see get glasses that is a shot out
To the words of curt grub, the motherfucker is not scrub
I said, "The man is the kind with the one that I call brine shrimp"
We never ever do skimp I limp on a stage in a huff
Like magic dragon I puff on the stuff of a hum bolt cone
Then I'm stoned watch out, smoke the weed that come from
Northern California, don't do no cocaine that come from Columbia
That the thing that mash up your nature, mash up your body
And mash up your culture
Take a tip from the the flipped script of daddy Freddy
I give complete props to the one that rocks steady
With dexterity and goes on and on and on
And turn out the dope shit like the one that's called
Pawn shop press, yes, it's on, what's up?
P-Nut change it up, what's up with your mind, what's up
