| Little Sally Walker, sittin' in a saucer
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| Oh, how I tossed that ass up
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| Like a mission in the woods, woody woodpecker would if he could
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| But I didn’t want to pass it up
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| To the next man had my walkman bumpin' on
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| The fifty yard line and my adrenaline pumpin'
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| Like a killer thriller driller tiller out with the miller brew
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| Filler up, took it 'til the damn Dutch puked
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| Luke Skywalker ain’t a sweettalker so I got ill
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| With my lightsaber that came in one fancy flavor
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| My strange behavior led to an outburst
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| The night felt good but the day got worse
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| I thought I was alone, slim Tre the stowaway
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| With a brown-eyed bombshell that was dope enough to pay
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| I looked over my shoulder and my cover was peeled
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| By my whole school sayin «ooh» and I’m busted for real
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| (He came and went at the same time)
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| Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit
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| What to say the least
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| I’m so slick that they need to call me grease
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| Cuz I slips and I slides when I rides on the beast
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| Imani and your mom sittin in a tree
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| K-i-s-s (i-n-g)
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| Yo, first comes the tongue
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| And then come the she my homey’s m-o-m what (m-i-e)
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| Yo, and to think from day one in my eyes I show fear cuz
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| I stepped into his house his, Mom’s grinnin ear to ear
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| Gigglin and winks for weeks
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| I would encounter from this female
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| She’s sizin me up for the kill
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| Oh what the hell is what I said to myself so that I wouldn’t worry
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| I’m sittin' on the couch and wish Greg would please hurry up
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| She offered me a cup of ripple broke out the titty
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| Squeezed her nipple, said, «Suck it if you like but please don’t bite it»
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| I had an urge to say fuck it but I knew I had to fight it
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| Before I could say alakazam par dick ma wah
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| I took this old bitch in a doggie style
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| Greg walked in the room that nigga cold had a fit
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| But all this numbskull could say was, «Oh shit!»
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| Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh
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| Sh-
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| (Son-of-a bitch, son-of-a bitch, come on!)
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| One fine summertime Sunday evening
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| Crenshaw Boulevard was in full swing
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| Perfect example of how looks can be deceiving
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| Rolled up to what I thought was a pretty young thing
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| Rollin in a purple samurai Suzuki dookie braids was an aid to her sex appeal
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| Dude, she was dope, man, real dope on the real
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| Well anyway I went toot toot she said hey a beep beep
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| The next day rolled down to the beach, deuce deep
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| Me and my new Crenshaw cutie
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| Coolin' on the beach and now she’s rubbin on my booty
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| Suck suck suckin' on my neck like Dracula
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| But it wasn’t all that spectacular (why?)
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| Cuz everytime I tried to touch upon her tay-titty
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| She would be like «Quit, B»
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| Bitch was frontin' but I didn’t say nothin'
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| Then all of a sudden as if someone pushed the button
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| I got a funny feeling like something was real wrong
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| Looked at her shoes and her feets was real long
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| Then it hit me, oh please god no
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| Don’t let this ho turn out to be a John Doe
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| He pulled a fast one on me, yo
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| I guess that’s one of those things that make you go: shit!
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| Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh
|
| Shit
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| Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit… |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Oh Sh*t, artist - The Pharcyde. Album song Cydeways: The Best Of The Pharcyde, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп