Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Typical American, artist - The Goats.
Date of issue: 17.10.2019
Song language: English
Typical American |
Chorus: |
I’m not, your, Typical American |
I’m not, your, Typical American |
Tell me whose is whose, tell me who is on the microphone |
I’m OaTie of the Goaties and I propose I would like a bone |
Ta edge off the dredge I’m alleged to have sparked a joint |
I speak political and blisstical I really hope ya like my points |
I aim at a target like rife not a shotgun |
Don’t spray into the fray ta prove that I got one |
Hyde ya hose from Aaron, Rose cause he knows how ta top one |
'Sgot a nose for the prose so don’t suppose he will stop son |
I’m rollin’into this rhyme like ya’d bite a tendoroni |
I’m rollin’into this rap cause it’s mine and ya know me I won’t mind defy or sing like Toni Tone |
Singing for the supper like a dog does a boni |
George get off my jock cause I’m really gettin’tired a this shit |
So step back Dan and throw up those fist |
Cause I’m a wreck shop and I turn this motherfucker out |
Pay what is due me less I’m going up in your mouth |
Yup yup I got the rhymes ta kick your butt |
It be the G-O-A-T the M-A-D-D say what |
Up hus I got bucks yeah I be on the 2 bus |
So what’s up I got nuff respect ta make ya jump |
Welfare receiver with the north side attitude |
I’ve had the shit piled up like in multitudes |
Nappy headed, holey shoed, roundin’out the roster fist |
Ya Wanna step you better check the Green Monster first |
I don’t pretend to be a nice guy so why ya try |
I can go to plan B and you can get an eye jammy |
So save the sob story for a storybook and look |
Jack-in-the-box can take a lickin’but I’m never gettin’took |
By Uncle Scam and his band of political crooks |
Searchin’nooks and crannies of my grammy’s pocketbook |
Hello hello can ya hear me now G The typical American kid that ain’t me Neither is Oatie or the M A double D So pass the dutchie on the left-hand side |
And don’t hide the crop cause I the E-Z-Wides |
I’m gonna survive not suck seed, cause I stand as a man |
And you can’t hand me no bird feed |
Pop goes ya head like the top of a daisy |
Ya ghost when the world hits like Patrick Swayze |
Crazy this shit about a plausible denial |
North takes the rap while ya clap at the trial |
Pie la mode, the ghettos will explode |
While ya sit pigeon-toed at diamond commode |
Another episode of ya walkin’the streets |
Million dollar stroll five thousand pigs on on the beat |
For the very first time imported from the hills |
Ya take money from the poor like a fiend pops pills |
Like the Mills Brothers ya sing a very white song |
But the roots of ya soul kinda colored belong |
I’m paralizing punks with a positive pedigree |
For those who choose to love me, I’m the M-A double D For those who choose to hate me, I negate like their full effect |
Feelin’ready and willin’ta break Darryl Gates’neck |
Like fee diddily foe, fum I gets dumb |
And like the typical American black male I’m done |
Eatin’apple pies when Ma Double’s rockin’rhymes |
Ya know they on my nuts hus, they climb, they climb |
Ta hell with Stormin’Norman I write rhymes Black |
They be political plus they be all o’that |
Philly born and bred wit blunts straight to the head |
Callin’me conformist, man I warned you that shit was dead |
Military is a mockery for all to see |
Be all you be is just another trick that’s up their sleeves |
But ya better believe that you’ll be grieving when ya ain’t receiving |
What was promised don’t be atonished cause ya won’t be leaven |
They reeled ya in like your skin had fins |
Now you’re poundin’sand for another man’s sins |
To each his own to each his own they say |
But I’m gonna blow a bone and you can march 'til the cows come home |
You likes alone and me direct your own ??? |
But when you come home in a box |
Green draws, green pants, green socks |
Typical American kid, I think not |