Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Idiot Gear [Prod by Dminor], artist - Louis Logic. Album song Blame It on the Hooch .2, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 17.10.2000
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Pot To Piss In
Song language: English
Idiot Gear [Prod by Dminor] |
«And then 4 months down the road the idiot gear kicks in |
And I ask about the ex-boyfriend which |
As we all know is a really dumb move but you know how it is -- |
You don’t want to know, but you just have to know, right? |
You know, stupid guy bullshit.» |
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls: |
In this corner quivering in the white trunks |
We have the unsuspecting boyfriend facing up to the champion |
His well-seasoned girlfriend |
The three knockdown rule is in full effect |
Ding Ding |
That’s the sound of curiousity peaking like cops that pat you down |
Boyfriends probably seeking the dirt on the skirt as if he’s deep in the earth |
Like who had reached in the shirt and who was sleeping with her, but hey -- |
She’s only human and probably only doing the dude who she loves most |
So you know who she’s screwing |
But while you’re lying there spooning assuming life is just all good |
You indavertently missed the size of the falsehood |
Living life in a small hood you probably collide |
With lots of the guys who used to climb on top of your wife |
So it’s not a surprise you’re asking the stupidest questions: |
'Who was the best in the sack?' |
and 'How many dudes have you slept with?' |
But the chance is, you didn’t want them answers |
And can’t live with it she used to be just a dancer |
Making the fast tips you would stuff her pants with |
And fast as mass transit she thought you were romantic |
I’m so glad we met (hey shorty) |
Come on girl try to be patient, I know I’m a pain in the ass |
But your ex-boyfriend has me stressed (back off dude) |
And all of the sex stuff should just remain in the past |
But we can’t get married yet, (no we can’t get married yet) |
It isn’t just that its greener, its also the length of the grass |
But somehow you keep on running to me -- and we keep living in fear of the |
idiot gear |
Right about this time, most of y’all are just wishin that this was fiction |
And itchin to ask your chick if your dick isn’t a depiction |
Of fitting inside a stitching when you’re sewing it up |
And to think that most of this stuff is just over a fuck |
I know what you’re thinking, we’ve all grown up with women |
And living without em seems like its harder than living with em |
But if you hit em, you’ll probably end up living in prison fellas |
Then you’ll be someone’s bitch -- I hope your girlfriend isn’t jealous |
This cinderella shit is totally irrelevant |
You’ll never get a girl older than 7 thats been celibate |
Cause every chick has been around the block with a guy or ten |
And guys are sensitive, its better that you lie to them |
Even the violent men who’s dressed up in street clothes |
With stilettos and heat knows they got delicate egos |
If she chose to tell you all persons with whom |
She put in work in the room, it would burst your balloon |
Looking at your sweetest snapshot, that’s when you start to wonder |
About the backdrop of her other lovers |
When you discover another flick of her hidden up under there |
Dressed in summer wear, with her ex giving her bunny ears |
And no one wants to share their chick with last guy |
To get rid of the bad vibes you figured you ask why |
Her past life is still chilling in the picture frame |
She’d probably forget his name if the dick’s the same |
Which is lame, but for some dumb reason |
The last bum seeps into your dreams and you become unseasoned |
Then one evening, you build up the heart to ask her |
Disaster -- with your lungs breathin hard as asthma |
And after she breaks down and tells you the truth |
It leads to a fight and she’s yelling at you |
And I’m convinced of this: being your queen’s only king |
Yo man see Louis right -- ignorance is bliss |
Oh what’s a guy to do |
Now listen to me papi |
You’re all fucking idiots |
How do you like them apples? |
«You know what I don’t think we need to do the thing |
Where we tell each other everything …» |