| Yo, yo
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| I’m the headliner, the first white pornographic rhymer
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| Banned local bar fighter
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| Hide your kids, pedophiler
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| Lowlifer, advise ya
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| I’m the world’s illest rhyme writer
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| You play the background, like Casanova Rud
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| I’m a underground legend, slashin blood
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| TLC was talkin bout me when they wrote No Scrubs
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| I’m the shit talking rapper all the dirty hoes love
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| These little white boy MC’s tryin to be like me Whitey, the first white mc to be grimey
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| Back when Just-Ice was kickin that
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| fuck shit ass bitch your mother’s dick shit
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| That’s when it all started
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| Walk down the street with a shotgun
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| Totin’on jackets, trenchcoats
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| Look like Inspector Gadgets
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| «Look at that fat fuck over there
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| A ugly white dude with the big gut and shoulder hair
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| Look at the clothes he wear, barefoot
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| No shoes on, you even on?
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| Smell the odour over there»
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| Obvious, he don’t care
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| He’s a Fly guy, hey oh A fly guy, oh oh
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| «Casanova»
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| Oh, ouee, oh A fly guy, oh oh «fly… fly»
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| He’s so fly
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| Fly guy, hey oh Fly guy, oh oh
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| «Casanova»
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| Oh, ouee, oh A fly guy
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| Ooh, «fly… fly»
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| It’s the Port Jeff, Long Island house party
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| Open the door, see the White Trash Army
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| We? |
| religious, we? |
| with us Lizards, rip the bible
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| Write our own scriptures
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| Scripts kitsch fictures, pussy lickers
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| Tongue blisters, the ol’school five-one-sixers
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| Opposite of winners, playin slitchers
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| Hillbilly shit kickers, dick swing like dirt?
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| In case you not feelin me, do you think that I give a fuck?
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| You, you, you
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| Bitch, you can’t front on the pussy, guaranteed that I still get to fuck
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| You, you, you
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| You should wise up Ignorant open your eyes up Kidnap tied up, gasoline, match, light up You lied right up Fuck your life up Hate us?, You don’t like us?
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| Join the club, sign up
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| I’m a
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| I’m a husband known for boastin and braggin
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| babblin, battle rappin, battle me, imagine
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| Staggerin, battle in the ?, low blow
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| Hit your blatterin, hammer in your lips, Mick Jaggerin
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| Imagine everlastin like Jimmy Dean, Marilyn
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| Gaggin in your mouth, put the barrell in Better be swallowin, you’re scared to be in died
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| Or take the bullet and bite it And write shit to make the whole world recite it That’s my final answer, I do a Cool J And live my drawers in your hamper
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| Rugged man’s temper
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| Dirty this, dirty dick shit
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| Dirty dick you can’t piss with
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| Hit dirty bitch with shit
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| You get pissed of? |
| shit
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| License to ill, Beastie Boys
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| I’ma autograph on your bitch tit
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| Yeah, I’m that guy that you hatin on with that bullshit album
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| Everybody waitin on, I’m a |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Casanova (Fly Guy) , by - R.A. The Rugged Man. Song from the album Die, Rugged Man, Die, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп