Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Swedish Fish, artist - Sage Francis. Album song Sick of Waiting Tables, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.2000
Record label: Strange Famous
Song language: English
Swedish Fish |
Yo. |
We’re not gonna take it |
No! |
We’re not gonna take it |
We’re not gonna take it… anymore! |
To all my intelligent motherfuckers |
(Word! Yo yo, aiiight aiight, peace dunny! No doubt. Peace. Respect) |
To all my inbred knuckleheads reppin' the culture |
(Yeah, represent that shit! True. Respect!) |
To all the clever ass fuckers out there |
(Shit is real! Shit is motherfuckin' real! Peace!) |
To all my Swedish Fish |
(Swim wit me. Holla if ya hear me. Booaw booaw booaw booaw!) |
Sage Francis. |
Oh yeah. |
That’s one of these smart motherfuckers right? |
Yeah. |
One of those kids that’ll think ya to death. |
Hahaha |
This Osgood-Schlatters Syndrome in my bones and my knee hurts |
Must have jumped into an unclean gene pool feet first |
The rebirth of slick hair |
With more «Wooo"s than Ric Flair |
Got me blockin' eyes and ears and the rest of my senses are prepared |
From the thick air that I breath |
How did I get here? |
I believe |
It’s time to scream, «What's the chime?» |
They leave no trace |
Remove the birth marks from your face |
Being handicapped is a bitch |
But I’m sick of watching her park in my space |
How 'bout I hop up on your face and pop this wheely |
Clutch my stick shift, you gots to feel me |
Growin' too big for the clown costumes |
Stupid wig |
Got self proclaimed vets in the game askin' their dogs, «Who's the new kid?» |
I say, «Um, I’m 32.» |
Been here for more than 10 years and never heard of you, so what the fucks your |
curfew? |
«Say what? |
10 years? |
God damn?! |
That’s practically a decade.» |
and I say, «So, you a math man?» |
How 'bout we go 50/50 on our friendship |
They say, «Meet me half way, fuck this 50% shit!» |
How smart are we? |
Very smart |
Received a Valentine’s Day voice mail from Mary Hart and then I passed out |
Plus the lights were blinking |
Too much leisure induces seizures |
I’m blacked out but it looks like I’m thinking |
Reaching for the ceiling |
Pulling down the skyline |
You knew I was around |
Once I broaden your horizon just to show you the night time |
Captain Kirk beam me back to Price Line |
And buy my ticket out of the pop culture |
There’s no intelligent life to find |
I’m off the meter, off the hook, I’m off-line |
Frankly I’m awful |
So underground, I need an oxygen tank and snorkel |
Untrying |
To the simple minded, plain and normal |
One time |
Take me Lord, make me mortal |
Yeah, to all my intelligent motherfuckers |
(Let's build! Respect respect. Shit is real B! Yeah, respect!) |
Peace to all my headcrackin' melon bruisers |
(Ayo, aiight aiight. No doubt. Get this money yo!) |
Respect to all my dumb bitches |
(True. My shit is real ho. Respect. Respect. Ha. Yo. True.) |