Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Nacho Man , by - Nacho Picasso. Song from the album Blunt Raps 2, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 18.06.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Nacho
Song language: English
Nacho Man |
| Bad blood, bad vibes and bad luck |
| Bad sluts ODing in my bathtub |
| Gave my ex a back rub with a Mack truck |
| Did her like a speed bump then I backed up |
| Sue me bitch, I’m racked up |
| Wanna act up, get smacked up |
| Off Xanny bars, I was half drunk |
| I was blacked out when she ran up |
| Hold up can’t stand up |
| Someone help me pull my pants up |
| Police came, I put my hands up |
| But thank god I put them grams up |
| And them bands up, I get dandruff |
| Head and shoulders, bust mad nuts |
| Where’s Nacho? |
| He at Mad Cuts |
| Like Where’s Waldo? |
| Off mad dust |
| Air fresheners we don’t need funk |
| Keep Ozium all in our trunk |
| We’ll spray Febreeze, we’ll leave you slumped |
| We’ll air it out, whole crew is skunk |
| So all you do is duck, like a Buddhist monk |
| I had your girl, and your crew is bunk |
| I gave her D, all she do is flunk |
| That’s a passing grade, but who gives a fuck? |
| Fucked her in the butt, never took it in the rump |
| Then she broke up when she couldn’t take a dump |
| I’m Bad Santa, I got bad manners |
| Got bad grammar, bad bladders |
| In Atlanta I had asthma |
| LSD in my bandana |
| I’m Santana, blam the hammers |
| Need Dr. Frasier not Kelsey Grammer |
| Fucking Chelsea Handler, I’m the Mad Hatter |
| My nose is red, if I had antlers |
| I’m Rudolph and my clan Prancer |
| Pestilence, AIDS and cancer |
| Sorry Sway you ain’t have the answers |
| I smashed the bitch while I was watching Manswers |
| Obnoxious bastard, wrapped in hazard |
| Tape wearing BAPE, going ape, I’m plastered |
| In wake of the wraith, hold your fate I mastered |
| The way that I flav', you could write a chapter |
| I crawled out the grave, threw a rave, a rapture |
| Fuck a damn dispatcher, all they heard was laughter |
| We don’t give a fuck about your name |
| 'Bout your name, mane |
| We don’t give a fuck who you bring |
| It’s all the same, we all insane |
| It’s all the same, we all insane |
| Can’t complain mane |
| Sacrificial virgin bitch |
| Gave her to the dirtiest |
| Flirtiest, unworthiest |
| Nacho, he the merciless |
| He don’t know what mercy is |
| The hungriest and thirstiest |
| Couldn’t get a Hershey kiss |
| Now get off me you thirsty bitch |
| I’m Halloween, no trick-or-treat |
| She met the trick, had dick to eat |
| Your main chick, come lick my sneaks |
| But she could roll my grass like football cleats |
| Insomniacs, baby we don’t sleep |
| Just toss and turn, we bench for weeks |
| We play for keeps, play keep-away |
| We reek of yay, and spend a G a day |
| Like |
| Unbelievable. |
| Time-distortion, space is the place…(inaudible)… |
| go down that lonesome highway, yeah! |
| But don’t be at the dice, no, |
| reincarnation doesn’t have to be. |
| You can concentrate and you can, uh, |
| (But) its called telepathy. |
| (But the beat goes on?) But the beat goes on |
| Nacho, Nacho, Nacho, Nacho |
| Can I ask you a question Macho Man? |
| No more questions! |
| (echoes) |