| For me, touring life means giving the Jägermeister pure
|
| I see women laying a trail on the side
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| If her pussy itches, we'll work it out
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| If I put the pound in her mouth, there is no need to talk
|
| Many do not hold the cheeks and philosophies
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| If they get on my sack, I'll stun them like chlorophyll
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| If I'm fed up, I'll go into the mobile home
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| And then I crunch the joint that I feel better
|
| And this is how it goes every day, same pattern
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| You want a drinking contest, chop it off Eisenleber
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| If the chaotic people are on their way, then it's demolition
|
| In fact, everything gets smashed until it's mud
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| (Yeah, ah)
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| Out of boredom I started smoking weed on the tour
|
| Party, hip-hop, pure Jägermeister
|
| The stage is set and we have some really great merch
|
| Don't feel like carrying that shit, so let's buy another shirt
|
| Wind down the window for a moment, cops cause stress
|
| I piss in the cup, dicka, negative test
|
| He still has one question, what kind of music do you make?"
|
| But instead of an answer, he got fuck fingers
|
| It's a great feeling when the audience recognizes me
|
| But being a rapper is hard, I slept until 4 p.m
|
| Backstage is filled with everything you need
|
| If we play "The Negro" the hut is full of smoke
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| Bobby car, kick start, off through the middle
|
| You go limp like a tit over 80
|
| I come to your city, tear off for one night
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| We give 100% because nobody else does it
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| Eardrum bursts, hundreds howl'n
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| Everyone goes off, it goes down like oil
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| Hunter rounds, Hunter shots
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| Yes, everyone is up for it
|
| Maybe your liver will jump today too, don't give a damn
|
| Freshen up after the show
|
| Put Eddings on the table
|
| Chill'n with the fans and laugh with their kids
|
| Autograph session, laughing and staring into the flash
|
| Some ladies want me to turn them into a bitch today
|
| , I'll clear the final whistle
|
| Build what feels like 80 times a day
|
| Do you need Ott
|
| Heck is fine
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| You call through, neighbor is coming, Heck ticker
|
| Hide your weed, I ask -inches
|
| And ten years ago, everyone thought our beats were great
|
| As the beat rolls
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| I ship in the cup behind the DJ desk
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| It's the beer's fault
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| Making music for 20 years
|
| Poop in the soup of others
|
| Here and there gold plates
|
| We also have platinum, you monkeys
|
| This is far from the end of the line (No)
|
| Beathoavenz, B-Tight on the microphone
|
| (house, mouse, out, Klaus alta)
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| All bounce
|
| Retro
|
| Backflash, backflash
|
| Because we make rap the way it's supposed to be
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| We we you'll never be-be
|
| Turn up the music, do you hear that, do you hear that
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| Crunken up starting at 1000 degrees
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| The-the nights will never be for-forgotten
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| HAAAAA |