Atmosphere "The Employees of the Year" |
::Slug:: the employees of the year now we back to work/ we took time off a couple of feelings got hurt/ due to the fact that we never stand still/ the ones they cant catch the ones they cant kill/ i dedicate this to the cats that dont feel felt/ meditate get the head straight trying to keep well/ celebrate life then crash wit no seat belt/ then slit both wrists and act like you need help/ ::Murs:: what'd you say girl i cant hear ya speak up/ stuck between them lips and them two b cups REUP/ 50 bucks in the dice game/ rollin with 7's and the legend and we twice came G's UP/ and you know what they hittin fo'/ fifty six cities one van and we gettin dough/ call your girls make plans you can hit the show/ tell ya man in the van so he can hit the dough/ ::Slug:: honey wanna move like she knows moves/ and it aint a bowl of cold soup with an coke spoon/ i'm not as young as i look girl i'm old school/ somewhere between pro tools and a gold tooth/ i show you to act like you supposed to/ so cool coast to coast whose that grown fool/ standing on the block leanin on a phone booth/ tryin to squeeze a rock to make this orange juice/ ::Murs:: little man see's biggest step t's/ from the two-one-five' to the two one threes'/ it goes a little something for some real mc's/ not felons not gangstas on the killin spree/ shoot my rap sheet is filled with simile's/ and if you bite then death be the penalty/ but dont worry about my style cuz its been O.G./ and make ya girlfriend wonder what was skin on me/ (CHORUS 2x) ::Slug:: put my picture on the wall for all see/ when u want it done right then call on me/ guaranteed to come tight and flawlessly/ the employees of the year aint nobody as raw as we/ (ticky ticky tick ti tick ti tick ticky tick) ::Slug:: thug white girl suburban black hippy chick/ punk rock straight edge hip hop pot head/ invite them all over for a mosh pit in my bed/ right blow to the left speak of the people/ cold get dough in front of the subteacher/ now hold it run dont let it touch the ground/ and you'll know its done when the cops cut the sound/ ::Murs:: but what else could they say to these underground dun's/ known for eating guppies for cluttering our ponds/ free flowing on beats that you stuttering on/ my man ant made the jams that we buttering on/ breakfast close/ midwestern coast/ minage n austin/ texas toast/ whatever dude i'm gonna do it this full/ beatin down your block knockin pictures off the wall/ (Chorus 2x) Lyric from www.lyricmania.com |