Top Songs By BUSDRIVER
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
BUSDRIVER
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Regan John Farquhar
Songwriter
Paris Zax
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Paris Zax
Producer
Lyrics
Yeah, you know, let's go on down to the poetry spot (Uh huh)
You know what I'm saying?
Kick some knowledge, you know what I'm saying?
I proliferate a plethora of pro-black factoids
To the white piccaninnies who love black boys
I go to every poetry reading
Wearing my dashiki kufi
And when all the OG's are leaving
Then I scoop my weekly booty
From women who are subdued by the
Left-wing liberal is gibble-gabble for the minimalist coffee shop are leading frivolous civil battles
My body's offered to a higher cause
To sample my gunny since my firing squad
Distribute with earth tones and pastel colors
Enablin' me to start aquiring broads
I say cosmetics are extract from whale blubber
I'm saying tennis shoes are made from 4 year-olds in sweat shops
I'm saying kill whitie and death to the cyber god
Before you know it shes wearing moccasins and grass skirts
See how fast it works
You'll be eating narcissists and bags of multi-grain bread
Reading books and saying TV land is for the brain dead
It is simply because of her bourgeois upbringing
There's her into my bohemian flat
Vintage clothes hanging off her lanky physique
Romanticize this angry geek
She's college material turned into a fair-skin whore, American forged
And I've been seducing these women so long that I formed a committee
And I'm the chairman of the board
Call me Harrison Ford, when I have to use my "Han Solo"
Hah, hah! Hoh hah, hoh hah!
Guess what? Happiness, has a sales tax
We're not soul mates, that's just something that I read
I don't love you, I am just a movie actor
Lets read poems in a nuclear reactor
You may think I'm just a anti-social bum
Well I don't need you, cause I have opposable thumbs
You wanna hear my dissertation? Yeah?
Exchange your tutu and tiara for this hemp anklet
Have you ever fucked with a martyr, then slept in the embankment?
[?] stacked in that in-sync aura and I wrapped into a handkerchief
I decorate my speech with Taoism and karma
But I don't know Walt Whitman from Walt Disney
Small titties and perky nipples will augment my dog-sense
But I'm far from a puppy dog
Cause I have opposable thumbs, I'm just a slutty broad
I use to study abroad
Show [?] then I become her sex symbol (Eh?)
Rap moguls make sums from money fraud
But I sell CD's that sponge off young ladies and will
I was fighting for all of my rights when I stood still
Like a Beatrice to the KFC
When they sold chunks of the mutated red rooster
Genetically engineered, dude it's good
And other girls sell the corporate Lex Luthor
Exponentially, by the end of the year
[Sleep, we'll pick seat?] up out of toilet seats
We'll come to my place and read your tarot cards
We'll exchange bodily fluids and I'll exaggerate all of my political views
The colorful, whimsical hues
Guess what? Happiness, has a sales tax
We're not soul mates, that's just something that I read
I don't love you, I am just a movie actor
Lets read poems in a nuclear reactor
You may think I'm just a anti-social bum
Well I don't need you, cause I have opposable thumbs
I'm always meetin' women, cause I'm happy with myself
Nanananana you believe me!
Nanananana but my poems suck!
Nanananana you bought my CD!
Nanananana now your modem's stuck!
All the ladies in the house, who sleep with poets
Just put your hands in the air, just let everybody know who you are
You know what I'm saying?
Hey, young lady? very good!
All I have is salty game and a membership to Blockbuster
Trying to make subtle advances until she called me a cocksucker and told me to not touch her
Can't two consenting adults be open about their sexuality over hot supper
Tryin to nibble on the woman flower but I get swooped down upon by the ex-boyfriend crop duster
How can I sample her goods?
Must be a tree hugger who seems in-intent to re-number the sequence of events
Or a fucking patron saint of self-pity whose ego lives in a little world
And has blatant hate for elf-city?
Probably
She'll think I commute from Mars to Earth
To pick a working princess in a poetry onto star-search
Even I'm of large girth and have boils on my skin and I'm a hunchback
She'll simply involve by my supposed artwork
Even though my poems sound like I'm the first motherfucker
To hear Ursula Rucker
And I'm so hollywood
I wanna be on speaking terms with all the superstars
Eating wheat germs and fruit bars
Growing trees from ferns and roll up my used car
Like poetry for polygamy, yeah
Poetry for polygamy, yeah
Guess what? Happiness, has a sales tax
We're not soul mates, that's just something that I read
I don't love you, I am just a movie actor
Lets read poems in a nuclear reactor
You may think I'm just a anti-social bum
Well I don't need you, cause I have opposable thumbs
Thumps up, thumbs up
Thumbs down
This goes out, this goes out to all the spoken-word artists
Nothin' but hemp anklets and funking sun dresses
And fucking makeshift, bullshit dreadlocks
You know what I'm sayin?
I got a fetish for that
Writer(s): Regan Farquhar, Paris Zax
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com