| and he is, as they say, wild and crazy
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| As a composer, arranger, and producer
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| He’s exploring it all
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| From the furthest reaches of musical outer space
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| To the most down to earth funk
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| And he sounds, well, he sounds exactly like this
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| Nobody 'members those
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| Rap City episodes from twenty years ago
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| When you were the guest host
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| Past history, let it go Get off on a medical
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| Pack a duffle bag with all your wrinkled clothes and pedal home
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| Get a little dictaphone and sit alone
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| In the middle of the room and let it flow
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| Wouldn’t it be better
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| If you went and chose a new career path
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| Like a shepherd or a flight attendant on an aircraft?
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| You’re pitiful, a pollywog
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| Tiny fishy in a smaller pond
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| Holding barbie dolls and leftover beads from the Mardi Gras
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| Actin hella hard but that’s just poppycock
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| 'Cause inside you’re hella soft like a Jolly Rancher lollypop
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| I’ll give you cauliflower ears stupid
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| You’re weird
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| Feelin blue
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| On a stool somewhere, two-fisting beers
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| At a Hofbrau
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| Moaning like a hot cow
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| Cryin on the shoulder of some old man you met just now
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| I’m smarter than you
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| I’m harder than you
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| I’m better than you
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| I’m just raw
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| I’m hotter than you
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| More popular than you
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| More clever than you
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| And goshdarn it, people like me
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| I’m smarter than you
|
| I’m harder than you
|
| I’m better than you
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| I’m just raw
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| I’m hotter than you
|
| More popular than you
|
| More clever than you
|
| And goshdarn it, people like me Look I’m sorry, mate
|
| This is awkward, k?
|
| Little hard to say
|
| So I’ll just say it Me and your mommy date
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| She’s awfully great
|
| She’s a soft seatmate (?)
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| She calls me late
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| Always wants to meet
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| On her coffee breaks
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| She bought me seats
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| To Bonnie Raitt
|
| Now there’s no concrete date
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| But she bought the ring
|
| It’s Marjorie May (?)
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| And my stockings stink
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| From my foot up in your ass
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| 'Cause you drive me absolutely batty
|
| See I’m crabby when you get around me Tell me who’s your daddy
|
| Call me Mister McAffee, your poop-deck pappy
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| Shut your trap and get back in the backseat of the Camry
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| Don’t sass me or I’ll backhand you
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| smack you with an axe-handle
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| Burn you with a wax candle
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| Slap you with a sandle
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| I’m trying to watch the rap channel
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| Can’t you tell we laugh about you?
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| Call yourself a rapper but I gives a rat’s ass about you
|
| Why do I even bother with these Hoff-brand cats
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| Y’all are wombats man
|
| I’m bout to blow this pop stand
|
| Lyrically y’all don’t compare to me in any contest
|
| Like a stealth bomber up against a Hyundai Accent
|
| Tall-can to a shot glass
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| Bong-hit to a contact
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| Gary Coleman versus Big Boss Man
|
| The Loch Ness Monster up against a crawdad
|
| Talking Sly Stallone in Rocky versus Sly Stallone in Copland
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| Judge Judy versus Johnny Cohcran
|
| Oh man
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| Nell Carter versus Karen Carpenter topless
|
| Better yet, Broadband
|
| Compared to a long ass
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| Piece of string connecting two pop cans
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| It’s all bad
|
| Don’t quit your job at all believe me you’ll be so glad back
|
| Hold on with both hands
|
| It’s sucks washing sauce pans
|
| I know there’s an off chance that one day hip-hop heads
|
| Will maybe feel rappers in the top-ten that crossdress
|
| Ever since his triumphant return from his first album, L.T.D.
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| Critics are calling (Lyrics Born) the brightest new star in years
|
| (Same Shit, Different Day) is his new album, on his own label
|
| And it’s got the kind of top talent (Lyrics Born) always surrounds himself with
|
| Here’s a sample of what they’re raving about |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song I'm Just Raw (prod Dan the Automator) A capella, artist - KRS-One. Album song I'm Just Raw / Pack up Remix, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп