歌曲名:Oldies歌手:Ethel Merman&Ray Bolger专辑:The World Is Your BalloonOdd Future - OldieYo, shout out to everybody that worked on the albumYou feel me, son? Yo, shouts out to Ty DollasShouts out to Hodgy Daddies, shouts out to Left BrizzleShouts out to Domyon, shouts out to Frankie OceanShouts out to Syd the Dude, shouts out to L-Boy AwkBig eared bandit is tossing all his mannersIn a bag and wrapping them in seran wrap bandagesTossing them in baskets with the rest of those sandwichesSo when he says "catch up, n*gga" it looks like an accidentUm, flowing like my pad is the maxiestMy b*tch white and black like she"s been mimicking a pandaThen kicking all out like Mr. Lawrence did PamelaPut her in the chamber all against her Will ChamberlainI never had a reason, n*gga, I was just ableFlyer than an ostrich moshing in a tar pitSemen scented cheetah printed teeIn that "Preme five panel, I"ll repeat it for the seasonPrevious items in the presentWith the normal ass past like I cheated on my teamMan (tried to get that n*gga, but, Golf Wang)To have some type of knowledge that is one perceptionBut knowing you own your opponent is a defeating bonusI"m Zeus to a KronosCartilage cartridge is bonelessSmiles of cowards in lead showersDead spouses in red blousesChildren who fled houses on Mustang horses an went joustingI"m on my Robin Hood sh*tRobbin" in the hood: whips, drugs, jewels, and your petI"m stealing your rings, coke diamonds and your VetSoldiers lace the f*ckin" bootAnd salute like the troop when they shoot you gon" poopAnd out my Kool aid, juiceHodgy got the juice, I got the ginJasper got the Henny, my n*gga we get it inWolf Gang party at the hotelI call a ho, you call a ho, and all the hoes tellYou know Left Brain need a freakI need a b*tch to go down like a Nitty beatYup, uh, and her ass fatDon"t be surprised if I ask where the hash atDomo where that Flocka Flame? Talkin" "bout a lighterStill bang salute me or just shoot meCause if you don"t salute me then my team will do the shootingYea my n*gga Ace will pull the black jackThe king Mike G is in the cut with the black macLivin" like the Mafia, b*tch, don"t get to slacking upAnd if these haters actin" up, throw "em in the aqueductFree my n*gga Earl, yo, I don"t really ask for muchBut two bad b*tches in front of me cunnilingusWhat the f*ck is caution?Often I leave you flossin" and cause exes next to coffinsLost in translation, the dreams you chaseGot you diving for the plates like you stealin" home baseThat"s great - I"m home alone dreamin" of two on onesWith Rihanna and Christina Milian, bring it onAnd Travis is in the closet organizing and hangin" the trampThree lettermans that Ace has been makin" himNo strays while we catchin" matinees, huh?I"m gettin" blazed thinking "bout those daysI had the top off the GT3 like toupeesOne finger in the air, all"s fair when crime paysMy grand scheme of thingsIs to be attached to the game like b*tches to their wedding ringsAnd you don"t even need to lookCause we gleam obscene in the lightRide slow to my yellow diamond shining like the Batman logo over GothamRock LA to HarlemIf you say "get "em Mike G" then I got "emOne man squadron, n*gga I"m a problemFrom Briggs I got bars and plans toPimp these Polish b*tches into pop starsHumanity kills, we all suffer from insanity stillAnd if I said it then it is or it"s gonna be realOF "til I OD and I probably will, uhIt"s still Mr. Smoke-a-lot-of-potGet your baby mommy popped with my other snobby bopDo I love her, prolly notB*tch I"m in the zone, stand alone, like Macaulay CockI"ve been runnin" blocks since a snotty totBig wheel was a big deal with the water GlockNow I"m all grown, sing songs just to give "em wattsFire what I talk, but still cooler than the otter popOp Dom neck sh*t in your wish listOn some slick sh*t, your mistress on my hit listAnd I"m lifted "til I"m stiff out of this b*tchOdd in your motherf*ckin" areaBlood clots give me five feet "fore I bury yaSuicide flow, let the big wave carry yaTyler got the mask like he held Jim Carey upWolf Gang so you know we not givin" no f*cksYou know me dog, I"ma chill in the cut so I canCut it short, break it down, couple pounds, roll it up(Get me a Persian rug where the center looks like Galaga)Rent a super car for a dayDrive around with your friends, smoke a gram of that hazeBro, easy on the ounce, that"s a lot for a dayBut just enough for a week, my n*gga what can I sayI"m hi and I"m bye, wait I mean I"m straightI"ma get you this wine, the runner just brought the grapesMy brother give it some time, Morris, and Day"Course you know the vibe"s as fly as the rhymesOn the song, cut and you could sample the feelHeadphone bleed, make this sh*t sound realUsed to work the grill, fatburger and friesThen I made a mil and them psychics was liarsNow, how many f*ckin" crystal balls can I buy and ownHumble old me had to flex for the fogsDown in Muscle Beach pumpin" iron and boneBumpin" oldies off my cellular phoneYea, bumpin" oldies off my cellular phoneBumpin" oldies off my cellular phoneGoddammit, this rapping is stupid and it"s hardGotta do it over and over and over again but here I goHey it"s Jasper, not even a rapperOnly on this beat to make my racks grow fasterGot a TV show, so I guess I"m an actorPot head, half baked, lookin" like ChappelleRollin" up a blunt with that fire from hellStill ignorant, still hit a b*tchCatch me in the back with Miley on my lapBong rips as I feel on that little b*tch catHah, n*gga came through with a 9 bar real quickJust for the b*tches, little bit of money in my pocketF*ck it, Wolf GangYeah, f*ck thatLook, the contrast is a pair of lipsSwallowin" syrup and settin" fires to sheriffs whipF*ckin" all American terroristCrushin" rapper larynx to feed "em a f*ckin" carrot stickAnd me? I just spent a year Ferrisin"And lost a little sanity to show you what hysterics isSpit to the lips meet the bottom of a barrelSo that sterile piss flow remind these n*ggas where embarrassed isNarrow, tight line, might impair himSince I made it back to Fahrenheit, grimey get dinero typePharaoh f*ckin" pillow tear wearin" pack of parasiteThrew his own youth off the roof after paradiseLadidadi back in here to f*ck the party upRaiding fridges, tipping over vases with a tommy gunNever dollars, pop would make it rain hockey pucks60 day chips from f*ckin" awesome anonymousCall him bloated "til he show them that the flow deluxeOff the wall loafers, four loko, and a cobra clutchVocals bold and rough, evoke a ho" to pose his drumLet me hit him, hit it with a stick until the ho was numbCulprit of the potent punchScolding hot as dunking scrotum in a Folgers cup - or NevadaDriving drunk inside a stolen truckSh*tting like his colon bustBelly full of chicken and a fifth of old petroleumSupernova, I"m rollin" over the novicesI"m roamin" through the forest and spittin" cold as the porridge isStay gold "til the case closed and the story endPost mortem porkin" this rap sh*t and record itTo escort it to the morgue againLord of lips, bored of thisForklift the tippy top, best under 40 listStormin" the gate, who"s sure in the base, scorching ladiesMotherf*ckers soarin", torso and faceGet at me with savages, have a pack of ApacheAs a matter of fact, your swagger is tacky so see me you can"tLike crunchy black cats in a taxiBack like lateral passingWith that motherf*cking gladiator manner of rappingAs an addict I let percocets and xannies relax meFall back if your paddies is MaxiPleaseOF, sh*t that"s all I gotFrom my bigger brother Frankie to my little brother TacFrom that father figure Clancy to that skatey n*gga NaksShredding down "Fax, Wolf Gang run the f*ckin" blockStorefront, knee tatBook cover is the same lettering on lettermans and cotton socksAnd grip tape... and my shoesUm, I was 15 when I first drew that donut5 years later, for our label yea we own itI started an empire, I ain"t even old enoughTo drink a f*ckin" beer, I"m tipsy off this soda popThis is for the niggers in the suburbsAnd the white kids with n*gga friends who say the n-wordAnd the ones that got called weird, fag, b*tch, nerdCause you was into jazz, kitty cats, and Steven SpielbergThey say we ain"t actin" rightAlways try to turn our f*ckin" color into black and whiteBut they"ll never change "em, never understand "emRadical"s my anthem, turn my f*ckin" amps upJust admit, not only are we talented, we"re rad as f*ckB*tchesOFM, bangin" on your FMGnaw, 2011, yeaGolf Wanghttp://music.baidu.com/song/8512622
