Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Discombobulated, artist - Kottonmouth Kings. Album song Royal Highness, in the genre Поп
Date of issue: 31.12.1997
Record label: Capitol
Song language: English
Discombobulated |
Watch it, watch it, watch it Dog boy here, and i’m singing with the kings |
Cool and (delayed?) |
Sing it, comin’comin' |
I be getting faded, discombobulated |
Never say i made it till i’m pissin’off the top |
O.c. |
playas, fly rhyme sayers, |
Haters can’t fade us cuz it’s true hip-hop |
Mc’in is the place for me to be in, |
And nut-swinging is the way that i be g’in |
Never leanin’to the old, for the lyrical hold, |
Keep my shit bold, more (??) i (stole?) |
Fuck parol when i stroll, man i dodge five-0 |
I dip-dive, fuck a bribe, live to rock the show and the ho Skip the blow, gimme the 40, yo I like a lady down to ride it like a rodeo |
You see anarchy on the (??) like a (hippie?) |
(???) cuz my head’s a little trippy |
My bud’s i like 'em sticky, so pack another rip, d High as the plains west of the mississippi |
I be getting faded, discombobulated |
Never say i made it till i’m pissin’off the top |
O.c. |
playas, fly rhyme sayers, |
Haters can’t fade us cuz it’s true hip-hop |
Eh rude boy, lad you party nonstop, |
You’re the first to start, you’re the last to drop |
Eh rude boy, you never fear the cops cuz music is our weapon |
And that them can’t stop |
Punk rock man, let me tell my thoughts of hoss |
Hip hop freestyle, freedom of course |
Ooh, my old girl mary better known as a swag-hag |
Every other night she had me out buying dime bags |
A dime to a twenty, to a forty, to an eighty |
I switched to homegrown now i puff at bobby b’s, y’all |
I be getting faded, discombobulated |
Never say i made it till i’m pissin’off the top |
O.c. |
playas, fly rhyme sayers, |
They just can’t fade us cuz it’s true hip-hop |
Eh rude boy, lad you party nonstop, |
You’re the first to start, you’re the last to drop |
Eh rude boy, you never fear the cops cuz music is our weapon |
And that them can’t stop |
Check your traits, you perpetrate i can’t relate |
Your mental mind state is far to overrate, you can’t skate |
Don’t sit and debate, you need to skip the (??), |
Ask jesus christ to clean the slate |
I think it’s fate, i ain’t done yet so wait |
Your philosophies- pale and underweight, they’re out of date |
One mo’thing, and then we’re straight, put the fake to sleep |
And then i catch you at the wake |
And then we’ll bake, and once again try to relate |
Hopefully the good will win, you’ll lose the hate |
That’s a close, i think we''re up to date |
Wake up young chump, get a grip, checkmate |
Sound boy, you should’ve thanked the saint |
He just saved your life from a terrible thing |
Sound boy, saint just put you in check, |
He set you straight to save your own neck |
I be getting faded, discombobulated |
Never say i made it till i’m pissin’off the top |
O.c. |
playas, fly rhyme sayers, |
They just can’t fade us cuz it’s true hip-hop |
Oh, lord have mercy. |
lord have mercy |
Singing with the kings up on the record version |
Eh rude boy, i say you party nonstop, |
You’re the first to start, you’re the last to drop |
Eh rude boy, you never fear the cops cuz music is our weapon |
And that them can’t stop |
Shucka shucka to all the rude boys, |
Shucka shucka to suburban noize |
Coming in unity, like one big family, |
Every (??) gonna make you feel so irie |
It’s dog boy, you know me chat nonstop, |
Seeking the roots rub-a-dub, ragamuffin punk rock |
It’s dog boy, kickin down your shit |
From your microphone, ear, to your consolate |
Like the black flag son we’re gonna rise above, |
Every time we’re coming with respect and love |
I am the one dog-boy from l.a., ca In the name of unity i (??) must say |
From london, to kingston, from the south bay, |
All me out to do is flash my stylee |
Now i am a-comin'and i’m (??), little sound boy with no solution |
Check the (bag?), with just one flow |
You may find you don’t need a ego |
It’s dog boy, you know me chat nonstop |
With the roots rub-a-dub, ragamuffin punk rock |
Eh rude boy, you never fear the cops, music is our weapon |
And that them can’t stop |