Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Waiting List , by - Dr. Octagon. Song from the album Dr. Octagonecologyst, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 06.05.1996
Record label: Bulk
Song language: English
Waiting List |
| You enter, step in the room, four, five |
| My over compressed thoughts and ways make you get live |
| You are the patient, and I, your black doctor, |
| Medical bills, insurance, cash in the ceiling. |
| Dioxalyn fingerprints here ever since |
| I got my white suit pressed, out the cleaners, |
| X-Ray shades, with hard shoes and some razor blades |
| Who’s the brother that’s sick, and needs the operation? |
| Bullets removed from your head, grand central station |
| I gotta cut off your ear, first behind your neck |
| Rip out the stomach, and open rectum’s to dissect |
| Shine the light, inside, roaches crawling in your throat |
| I have no tools, my hammer’s done, my drill is broked |
| I’m the doctor, |
| You wait on the waiting list, |
| Patients been here since this morning I dismiss. |
| (repeat twice.) |
| Watching people vomit green, my po-lig is lizard pills |
| My office in Berbick, I had the bodies in Beverley Hills. |
| Seeking Kimbles and bits, a girl with small tits |
| Talking to herself, her dog, and having rabid fits |
| Green fly soup in on the way from the kitchen, troop |
| Looking at T. B tuberculous on the window post |
| Ten dead dogs, a brown fox in the comatose |
| With no reps, I put more needles in they kneecaps |
| Some primitive screws, and my, yes and perhaps |
| A little sprinkle of Clorox, in their vocal box |
| Some Pepto-Bismol, Pepsi-Cola, pack of Pop Rocks |
| Mix it all together with bugs, to change the weather, |
| You be coughing blue, with eyes like Mr. Magoo |
| Straight up cartoon, you’re bound to fall out real soon. |
| As you come in the bright, you ride the orange ambulance |
| Look at widows and pell see the mental patients dance |
| Doin six and seven, steps ladies yells dance |
| Upside downside with walls flyin' through the hall/whore |
| Mr. Reeves/Mysteries with yellow bees they fly, sting your face |
| You out there bumps, caught up with a acne case |
| Plastic surgery, your lawyer now refer to me Giving you sketches, exquisive pictures of the gill man |
| What’s the matter, are you happy? |
| Na you’re ill man |
| Standin' back, you choose a ticket, |
| My spiritual laws of vitamins will turn your face wicked |
| You’re invited to ride the glide to your homicide |