The greatest and baddest (as in hardcore) rap ever known. To man.
- May 16, 2010
- 139 Views
May 16, 2010
T: What’s up! I’m T-O-L-A-N!
M: And I’m M to the A to the Triple X! My rapping persona has 3 X’s in his name
Both: And we. Are. BAAALLERS!!!
Cruising round the world erry day and night/ Honeys in bikinis to my left and right/ If a dude comes up and he’s looking for a fight/ Well he’ll probably win cuz I don’t know how to fight
Erry where I go girls are callin my name/ Bitches always wanna jump in bed with fame/ The sad thing is that I got no game/ And I have to use Viagra cuz my dick is lame
M: Ladies see my bling and they always give a holla/ Cuz in my wallet is at least 10 dolla/ And with all that dough I can seal the deal/ We’re going to McDonald’s for a Happy Meal
T: I got so much money that it’s comin out my ears/ That’s why Natty Light is my choice of beer/ My money and my power make the Jewish girls schvets/ When it comes to wine, I only drink Manichevitz
M: Chillin at the club makin the bottles pop/ But after two drinks I know I gotta stop/ (awkward) Well my head’s kinda spinning and I don’t like the taste/ Plus I gotta drive home, can’t be wasted
So I go the bartender and I get a glass of wata/ But I tell all the bitches that the shit’s straight vodka/ I chug it like a champ then I act real crazy/ When security restrains me I yell “bro don’t taze me!”
T: When I go to the club I make it rain/ It still technically counts, even if you use change/ But instead of cheers, it’s met with yelps of pain (M gestures, yelps “oww!”)/ I guess that’s one of the many pitfalls of fame
M: I got a sweet fuckin house with my own fuckin room/ It’s 8 by 8, so I get a lot of fuckin poon/ Got a sick fuckin kitchen make microwave porridge/ And an attached garage, fuckin use it for storage!
T: I drive a Civic, mothafucka!!
M: I work out all the time, can’t you fuckin tell/ It’s not hard to figure out, given the way I smell/ From afar I’m Adonis, so incredibly fit/ But up close, babes recoil, sayin “you smell like shit!”
T: I drink Muscle Milk for breakfast lunch and dinner/ But for some reason I’m gettin thinner and thinner/ And yeah I deal, even if it ain’t right/ I work the blackjack table every mothafuckin night
M: A guy’s attackin from the left, another from the right/ No problem, bitch, cuz I know how to fight/ That’s right, mothafucka, I know karate!/ I’m a white belt, took two lessons when I was 10!
T: Bitches know I’m tough cuz I roll so deep/ When I pass a rival gangster a flash him a skeet skeet/ But if he were to attack, we all turn and run/ I don’t know how to fight, I’ve never been in one
M: Erry where I go I carry a gun/ So you better back off and show some respect, son/ You think you gonna mess? I know that you ain’t/ That’s right, bitch, this mothafucka shoots paint!
T: You can’t mess with me, I own a pellet gun/ But with that said, I mostly use it for fun/ I try to shoot squirrels!/ I usually miss
T: When I go to the club, I dance like this/ What! What! What! What!
M: And when I go to the club, I wear my hats like this/ What! What! What! What!
T: And when I go to the club, it’s Jaega bombs all around/ What! What! What! What!
M: And when I go to the club, I look for girls I can pound
Both: (pause) Mothafuckas!
T: I use a loofa in the shower (shower, shower, shower)
M: I dessert before dinner (dinner, dinner, dinner)
T: I’m numba 1 stunna (stunna, stunna)
M: I’m, numba 2 stunna! (stunna, stunna)
T: The ladies all want me cuz my body’s so thick/ But they’re always disappointed when I whip out my dick/ It’s maybe four inches and that’s on a good day/ Needless to say, I’m not a very good lay
M: Women errywhere always laugh when they see me/ they say my penis looks like a smokey-flavored weenie
(Aside, cut guitar) You know those ones at parties. On a stick or pigs in a blanket. Bar Mitzvahs, spicy mustard, etc.
(resume guitar) Well I think they’re pretty tasty so I take it as a compliment/ and I proceed to ask the ladies if they’d like to add a condiment
T: I get straight A’s, but I get no beezeys/ Every time I show some skin, the beezeys simply tease me/ I don’t really get it, my abs are hard as a rock/ And I’ve always been known to have a cavernous cock
M: At the titty bar met Alex the stripper/ The second I saw her I knew I wanted to rip her/ So I take her to the bathroom, yeah we go in a stall/ Turns out Alex is Alexander, strippers got balls
T: I get back massages, erry day from a chick/ Funny thing about my back, it’s located on my dick/ The masseuse looks at me, says take off your shirt/ And I Jizz. In. My pants.
M: Bitches have wet dreams about me all the time/ I’m hooking up with one now, made it into this rhyme/ Still most say they’d even rather have a guy with a mullet/ Cuz in bed I’m Superman: faster than a speeding bullet
T: Girls say I’m the fastest that they ever had/ I’m an Olympic Gold Sprinter when it comes to the bed/ Some call me a God because after those nights/ The ladies never call back, I’ve satisfied them for life
Both: Yeah! Yeah! You like our rhymes! We comin from the streets of Cali! Etc