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make sure he doesn't leave - super smash mouth brothers lyrics

[dragonball z]
the hybrid smoking on papaya
that give you n*ggas bronchitis, what you write is all v*g*n*
what i write is wall of china
n*gga that’s great like eighths of grape ape
getting stuffed in my suitcase
ready to hit the studio and sh*t all on your mixtape
nah, literally, sh*t all on your mixtape
wipe with the credits, leave stains on the jewel case
in just two takes, dog, the booth’ll get souffléd
you’re hiding something like a toupee
truthfully, my friend, touché
you gon’ get exposed like an up*and*coming model
and to me your label seems like one of thеm pageant mommas
so guess who’s the littlе b*tch? that’s you
you must suck a lot of d*ck, that’s true
i misuse with issues and pistols
mind racing like bristol heart of igloos
my n*gga, you ain’t been what i been through
and if so, you’d take a pencil through your temple
cause i done served fiends on they menstrual
ain’t even have pads, stuffed they panties with tissue
hit the ave cause they mouth ain’t bleeding
and your style’s like fried chicken without the seasoning
n*gga, that’s bland f*ck you up and ya mans
i smack you like a b*tch, n*gga, that’s open*hand
f*ck you and your tough talk
when i monopolize i throw your ass off the boardwark
f*g, you ain’t play sports but always at the ball park?
type of n*gga rocking crocs at the f*cking walmart?
drunk like stallworth, riding in the fiend car
get fl!cked, guess what? i’m running from this fiend car
i know a n*gga dirty and got the hammer
but this kush got me high like pac bandanna
[skittles]
when i go out, i’ma go out shootin’
i don’t mean when i die, i mean when i go out to the club, stupid
i’m tryin’ to clean up my f*ckin’ image
so i promised the f*ckin’ critics
i wouldn’t say “f*ckin'” for six minutes
(six minutes, slim shady, you’re on)
my baby’s mom, b*tch made me an angry blonde
so i made me a song, k!lled her and put hailie on
i may be wrong, i keep thinkin’ these crazy thoughts
in my cranium, but i’m stuck with a crazy mom
(is she really on as much dope as you say she’s on?)
came home and somebody must’ve broke in the back window
and stole two loaded machine guns and both of my trench coats
six sick dreams of picnic scenes
two kids, sixteen, with m*16’s and ten clips each
and them sh*ts reach through six kids each
and slim gets blamed in bill clint’s speech to fix these streets?!
f*ck that! pfft, you f*ggots can vanish to volcanic ash
and reappear in h*ll with a can of gas and a match
aftermath, dre, grab the gat, show ’em where it’s at
(what the f*ck you starin’ at, n*gga?)

[dragonball z]
playing on the murder game play
show me where we is, n*gga, show me where we at
and …
we gonna find us where we at
when the …
let’em notice where we at
and tell me where we is
i’mma cop a couple shales
leave your stomach drippin’ like an open lunchpale
run up on a n*gga with the 4o, go blocko!
this n*gga soft like a old hard taco (murder game)
just a bunch of n*gga … (gluten ?)
swats and the jacks and the old n*gga ….
n*ggas get retired, everything a n*gga lost
pay a n*gga off, send him to the pay off
… a n*gga over, when a shoot don’t miss
irrespect, … now walking with a limp
ain’t a woman in a city for the lo
and your mama cryin’, that’s a real loose*up

- super smash mouth brothers lyrics

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