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[Chorus 4X]Bust the style! Bust the style![Timbo King]We, us, us, weT-I-M-be, O, yeah, where, tearTear ya hats on, and I don't careBack right, blow, rightGin and tay, gin and tayMay, June, July, AugustWatch me hard this, I mean dog thisTrack, act like you know the flavorWe got the flavor, go tell ya neighborBang, boom, boom, bangCheck out the man wit the funky slangSpark cuttin up the records like a daggerTrips in a stagger, no I'm not a braggerBoaster, keep a 4/5 in my hoasterHost this court case, no I'm not a fakeOr a phony, macaroni, Tone Toni TonyCheers, tears, four years onlyTakes two to mingle, here's a dope singleWe got sperm that jingle jingle jingleLights, camera, see us on TVPenny, Horny, Penny, Horny, PennyLegal, rocks, go ask your popsSongtexteSkip to my lue, drink my rum on rocks'cause nobody knows the troubles I've been throughWho, who, who, yes it's the man in the middle wit oxy tanAnd a little bit of clearer, sailJack and Jill went up the hill to buy a pack of franksCrank up the piece we gotta win this raceThese rhyme funkies gotta go to PennsylvaniaMoms always told me not to talk to any strangersLone ranger wit saddle, not, come on like Hector CamachoPeter, Peter Pumpkin eater, playin wit the proThe rhyme sounds silly, but the record sound dope[Chorus 4X][Timbo King]Mary had a little lamb, Sam cook out greenJack meet Numble Jack, look slick in his brown jeansTito, Jackie, Jermaine to the freebieFuck rough riders and his biddy biddy biddy friendCome again, come again, now select aSang a song wit the recordPeanut butter jelly, smelly Jim KellyMet Kermit the frog, he was down at the deliPolly want to cracker, I meant to say niggaAnd then like kids are, put them in a figureFour, pour me some water 'cause I'm thirstyMarvin Gaye, oh mercy mercy meHe, she, her, him, no it's TimbStep to the ring before I clear my phligmHeh-heh-hmm, heh-hmm, yes, yes it's the oneWoody Woodpecker wear moments like a hoodieI'm a goody goody two shoes, who's shoes, my shoesSware to God, on a stack of BiblesWho stack a car, bass line sounds rubberI can talk deep like the man Ron HarperKnick knacks, raw tracks back to slam, whoaBlack Betty, lamb the lambSo go wipe ya tails, 'cause you smell like doodieMoo-moo-mookie, moo-moo-mookieUh, holy whoaly, Dolly Parton, big tittiesWe make the earrings rock big vidy vidyLike I said it, Timbuktu I'm tossin yaOh, I forgot to add the fabric sofinerPeter, Peter Pumpkin eater, playin wit the proThe rhyme sounds silly, but the record sounds dope[Chorus 4X]Come on, come on, why'all (4X)[Timbo King]Think, sight, spray it wit the gamma rayThey went that way, they went that wayShea Stadium, what should I say to themFlex, work, Mr. Flex off go play wit themTop of collar ranger, fixty g'sIf this means flip the scene, I'mma flip the sceneGene Griffin, Griffin wit Richard GereCh-ch-chia, mira mira come hereThere for, afterwards like a contractYou can't see this style so get contactsBarcelon', to wash it onBust the style that I drop, 'cause it's my suppliesPeter Pumpkin eater, playin wit the proThe rhyme sounds silly, but the record sounds dope[Chorus 4X] Aus Songtexte Mania