| Yeah y’all it’s me, devestating Reverand Tom
|
| The church is open here
|
| Sessions will get bigger, my stats will grow
|
| I don’t call my stuff funk
|
| Gospel-vomic, let’s get raw
|
| Yeah…
|
| I used to look at girls, they were slim with fat stomachs
|
| In resteraunts, dog face, your girl made me vomit
|
| I took my goggles off, threw up in the garbage can
|
| I spit up more, earlin more on the garbage man
|
| She called her boyfriend, her girlfriend look like Pigpen
|
| I got loose and grabbed the horse right from the moose
|
| Right in L.A., Hollywood, in front of Roscoe’s
|
| Plastic freaks, lookin at me like I’m an average Joe
|
| She said, «I think you’re stupid,» I said, «You're big and fat —
|
| I’mma have to diss you, and step up in that rectum crack»
|
| Take off that hair, now you bald, let me make the call
|
| Watch your lip, and I’mma make your guts fall
|
| I see stretch marks that’s dark like
|
| You best to kneel, let the Reverand heal you
|
| Fat lady! |
| (Big woman)
|
| Fat lady! |
| (Big woman)
|
| Fat lady! |
| (Big woman)
|
| Fat lady! |
| (Big woman)
|
| Here’s a napkin, wipe off your lips and lose them fat hips
|
| I know your toes smell, your butt smell like corn chips
|
| You was about what? |
| Lookin bougie, I ain’t the one
|
| You try to pour your drink on me, go' head call the bouncers
|
| My cousin outside, with two tecs, and forty ounces
|
| Them homos at the door, didn’t want none — further more
|
| You started first fats, I’mma quench your thirst
|
| Don’t need no pens, why them niggas lookin at my hearse?
|
| With two grenades in my coat, a bomb in my pocket
|
| I’ll make this club jump off just like a Houston Rocket
|
| Like Monica said, «Just one of those days — you take it personal»
|
| Yes.
|
| You tried to laugh at me, my thousand dollar white shoes
|
| Don’t mess with me my girl, I’ll put your business in the news
|
| Take off that wig and hairpiece
|
| Remove your contacts, I’ll break you down like a clown
|
| (Man, why you wild man?)
|
| Standing over there with fat cellulite, lookin goofy
|
| With NBA players with cheap suits lookin doofy
|
| My shit’s Italian, and made by Lou Bernazini
|
| You havin Fatburgers, wine please with linguini
|
| My girl’s from Paris, she models — do you feel embarassed?
|
| Aluminum foil dress that won’t impress
|
| Wipe that chili off your neck, them hamburgers is a mess
|
| With more red meat, you can’t look so petite
|
| The devil’s cookin, your pot of grease smells sweet
|
| You in this land of Sodom & Gomorrah
|
| Should steal away in prime time, your makeup is the poorest
|
| You lookin almost white like Michael Jackson
|
| Mariah Carey flap but you gets no rectum action
|
| Stomach out, doo doo stain I spray with Shout
|
| I’m innocent, I never bothered anybody
|
| You gets trained, remain seated on the potty
|
| Truly yours
|
| Once again, devestating Reverand Tom
|
| I’d like to say peace to my man out there Kool Keith
|
| Automator, Kut, T.R. |
| Love, Biz
|
| Devestating Reverand Tom |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Fat Lady, artist - Kool Keith. Album song Official Space Tape, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп