Lyrics Cows Come Home - Spose

Cows Come Home

Who rocks the party till the cows come home
And doesn’t have cows so he keeps moving on?
It’s Peter!
(Hey)
You’re now rocking with the P. Dank crew tonight
Who rocks the party till the people all die
Then drags all the bodies outside and keeps rocking?
It’s Peter!
(Hey)
You’re now rocking with the P. Dank crew tonight
You’re now rocking with the best rapper with a concave chest
To give it to you nonetheless, I got the illest
Raps in the village, plus the most villains
Have my boulders looking Coca-Cola since we were some children
I’m the visionary vigilante, of the ante
Kicked over your hill, but you still acting antsy
Buzz-buzz shoo fly, don’t bother me
You don’t do it properly, don’t touch my pottery
Fantastic, you damn bastard
This shit’s handcrafted, and it’s made in Maine
And I’ve been at it for a good while, never hood style
And my clique sticks together like it’s a wood pile
So, so pile into the whip
Virgin Mary has a baby every time I spit
‘Cause I’m known to rock a party till the cops come
And I open up the door, tell them, «We're not done»
Who rocks the party till the cows come home
And doesn’t have cows so he keeps moving on?
It’s Peter!
(Hey)
You’re now rocking with the P. Dank crew tonight
Who rocks the party till the people all die
Then drags all the bodies outside and keeps rocking?
It’s Peter!
(Hey)
You’re now rocking with the P. Dank crew tonight
You’re now rocking with the most freshest, I’ll give you no guesses
It’s Edgar Allan Poe, plus both S’s
That’s my fucking name, my mother’s who’s to blame
They hear me rap, they’re like, «I can’t believe he’s from Maine!»
She’s like, «I can’t believe it either, I heard he’s Ryan Peters
I knew this kid he went to college with who sold him reefer
I heard he rocks sneakers that are old, and he lives up in Maine
Up in the cold, at least that’s what I’m told»
«I-I-I-I can confirm it ‘cause I saw him at McDonald’s
And his car, it had Heineken bottles in it
It was disgusting, his whip was gross
I don’t even think I could be down with Spose»
I’m like I don’t give a fizzuck, get up off my nizzuts
Everybody put your motherfucking handsizz up
If you don’t have hands, then welcome to the show
I’ve got to ask the question, but you already know
Who rocks the party till the cows come home
And doesn’t have cows so he keeps moving on?
It’s Peter!
(Hey)
You’re now rocking with the P. Dank crew tonight
Who rocks the party till the people all die
Then drags all the bodies outside and keeps rocking?
It’s Peter!
(Hey)
You’re now rocking with the P. Dank crew tonight
Say «Oh!»
(Oh), whack verses, lame hooks
And your shit sucks but looks good on Facebook
Hell nah, you can doubt my shit
You can count my money then get off my diiiiiiiii
-scography bulky like Sam’s Club
So great, I make a snake put their hands up
Lick my man butt, buy my tee-shirt
You’ll have your chance little buddy, but it’s me first
P-derp, preferred leader of the people living cheaper
MCs see me, go «Jeepers!»
Get jealous, want to beat me up
But these rappers just beneath me like Reese’s Cups, sluts