| Baby, because
|
| (I say, «Lord, have mercy»)
|
| This is for all you dirty bitches out there
|
| Suck up on this motherfuckin' nuts
|
| (I say, «Lord, have mercy»)
|
| Say stop! |
| Hey, what’s that sound?
|
| Everybody look what’s goin' down
|
| I’m everlastin', forever on a roll
|
| I’m rockin' to the boat, steamin' gray matter tone
|
| I ain’t sayin' I’m God but you can graft this
|
| Chances are if I’m a star, I’d be Johnny Mathis
|
| On some smooth shit, I’d be gaming all the honeys
|
| Hitting Hugh Hefner with his Playboy Bunnies
|
| Check the Sunday funnies, I’d be reading Doonesbury
|
| See me after dark, love, shit be getting scary
|
| I’ll freak you like Carrie on the night of the prom
|
| Let’s keep it cool and calm, I’ll start stroking your palm
|
| Work my way up your arm, start kissing your ear
|
| Maybe, licking your lips, then pulling your hair
|
| Yeah, I freak the back spasm to get the orgasm
|
| And if my legs cramp, girl, I lick that stamp
|
| I got it sewn love, so you ain’t got no worries
|
| Hold up, wait a second, my vision’s gettin' blurry
|
| Stop, hey, what’s that smell
|
| Someone laced dust all up in my L
|
| Bitches start sweatin' once the pockets swell
|
| Let’s take it back fourteen billion cells
|
| Periodic measures to say my rhymes
|
| Too much of this dope need growth-type slow
|
| Off a poet’s tree, let me blow my leaves
|
| Shake off my roots and pull up my sleeves
|
| Break a branchling wist stick
|
| Lyrics for the mystical
|
| Yo fancy, shake your chancy
|
| Our transystem is torn MCs
|
| I hymn-zen, then I’m casualies
|
| Pot smoke-seeds, relativities
|
| Seize it, I be on every first ability
|
| Of chaos, a higher form of infinity
|
| Gettin' me virtually supreme ID
|
| Reflectors and tackers
|
| At which my faster phrased words
|
| Super-lax, break raps and MCs jump off wacks
|
| Revolves and steers and still sees time stilt
|
| I work for Real Bill Divine, it’s lyrical chill
|
| I say, «Stop», hey, what’s that smell?
|
| Someone laced dust all up in my L
|
| Bitches start sweatin' when the pockets swell
|
| Let’s take it back fourteen billion cells
|
| Stop, hey, what’s that smell?
|
| Someone laced dust all up in my L
|
| Bitches start sweatin' when the pockets swell
|
| Let’s take it back fourteen billion cells |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song What's That Smell , by - House Of Pain. Song from the album Truth Crushed To Earth Shall Rise Again, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп