Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Dude , by - Asher Roth. Song from the album Retrohash, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 21.04.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Retrohash
Song language: English
Dude |
| Dude — yeah, yeah, chillin' in some shorts |
| Sippin' on a cold one, sittin' on the porch |
| Only chopsticks, I don’t ever use a fork |
| Go for it, little dork, don’t you know I’m that dude? |
| Yo, yo — born from a stork |
| Kung Pao chicken, you can pile on the pork |
| When I get bored, I just call up Scott Storch |
| House phone, no cord, of course I’m that dude |
| Cut my hair in two years, drink beer, get weird |
| Get clear advice from my friends, tell me get real |
| No deal — I be sippin' smoothies and shit |
| Gettin' stoned and then I go alone to movies and shit |
| Bolognaise, homemade, only play croquet |
| In a cloak and like old episodes of Soul Train |
| One with the OJs, Whole Foods for the groceries |
| OJ, loaves, cherries and Yoplait |
| No way Jose — Cuervo in a bear coat |
| Heirloom tomatoes, grow my very own |
| Bare-bone, dare you to out-stare a scarecrow |
| Blow whales air hole, hair like scared werewolf |
| Get down, sheets got a high thread count |
| Red gown gets drowned out by my med sound |
| Loud — Ted Talks on the iPad |
| Old search says «Bang Bros" — my bad |
| Good weed got me talkin' 'bout deities |
| Aphrodite, sucker for good lighting |
| And neat handwriting, sort of like calligraphy |
| Trick or treat at 30, dressed up as Jackie Tree |
| Dude… |
| Dude… |
| Niggas is clowns, I hand out styles, like… |
| I make 'em at home beneath my workshop lights |
| Hundreds of these, it’s nothin' to me |
| At home, over the stove, makin' these keys |
| Laughin' at these little niggas mimicking me |
| They slidin' down, razorblades landin' in alcohol rivers |
| I can’t get with 'em, nah, Spitta chillin' |
| And I still claim Jets at your ma’fuckin'… |
| With a batch of pot brownies in the oven and some hoes comin' |
| Same old shit, spendin', just the toilet bowl different |
| Bathroom’s bigger, bigger mirrors |
| Hoes seein' themselves in 'em and havin' twisted visions of us livin' |
| Coexistin', demolishing my pimpin' |
| None of that askin' where I’m goin', furthermore |
| When I’m comin' back, no whinin', no Taipei |
| I still pull a disappearing act — L |
| Never die, motherfucker, that’s what I say |
| Gettin' money out your bitches every goddamn day |
| Homie said he want a show, I want ten grand |
| I’m a need ten more when my plane land |
| Baby never met another nigga higher or hotter |
| Bitch, just hit the weed, don’t ask where I got it |
| In the presence of these international globetrotters |
| On the bus, ballin' out in different times with my partners |
| Dude… |
| Dude… |
| Dude… |
| Dude… |