| God Bless CES and CES bless you
|
| If you smoke a lot of weed and play a PS2
|
| If you smoking while waiting on that PS3
|
| And you’re playing your x-box then your just like Dean
|
| God Bless CES and CES bless you
|
| If you smoke a lot of weed and play a PS2
|
| If you smoke a lot and waiting on that PS3
|
| Playin' your Game Cube, then you’re just like me
|
| And I’ve been drinking long enough to know a kegger when I’m near one
|
| The party’s over whenever the beer’s done
|
| And I won’t be held accountable for any under-age drinking
|
| I took a cab home so what the fuck were they thinking?
|
| That DUI shit is Abe Lincoln
|
| Gone with the wind
|
| I learned that from an enemy’s friend
|
| But then again
|
| If you figuring a sin is a sin
|
| Is a eight-ball as bad as a bottle of gin?
|
| Oh fo' sho' tho
|
| Dumb are kids, pose in a photo
|
| And save beer bottles because of the fucking logo
|
| Trust-afarians with no dough
|
| Drinking like pros so
|
| Meantime, streamline, slow-mo its like-
|
| God Bless CES and CES bless you
|
| If you smoke a lot of weed and play a PS2
|
| If you smoking while waiting on that PS3
|
| And you’re playing your x-box then your just like Dean
|
| God Bless CES and CES bless you
|
| If you smoke a lot of weed and play a PS2
|
| If you smoke a lot and waiting on that PS3
|
| Playin' your Game Cube, then you’re just like me
|
| Skill is a weapon I’ll test in a millisecond
|
| And you will accept it
|
| The Catastrophic Events Specialists
|
| Emerged from the rubble
|
| CES settle the mess
|
| Gravel and mesh, metal and flesh, peddling death
|
| Murder the mixes, listening but with no evidence left
|
| Yelling ready for CES
|
| Mix it like a chemistry set
|
| We deadliest myth, this our fire element breath
|
| We never forget
|
| No iron traps, hella finesse
|
| All ladies can play the wall while the gentlemen step
|
| Y’all stomp 'til the floor trembles
|
| Y’all gentle and sex
|
| No special effects, kill 'em with official finesse
|
| Get tossed in the mosh pit
|
| Cause civil unrest
|
| You son of a bitch, running your lips
|
| You dumber than bricks |