Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song 85 Bucks An Hour, artist - Twiztid.
Date of issue: 23.06.1997
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
85 Bucks An Hour |
Chillin' at the studio… |
Chillin at the studio |
85 bucks an hour |
So hurry up and loop a beat Mike, come on! |
Uh, Uh, Uh |
I’m Violent J but my homies call me Shithead |
But that’s my homies, to you I’m Violent J bitch |
I put my boys on a track even though they suck |
(Dave) |
Yo dawg, I’m Dave and I don’t give a fuck |
(Violent J) |
I did a record deal, I signed a contract |
Technically, for Island I can only rap |
Well fuck that, with Twiztid I’mma still spit |
Even though I got a cold and I sound like shit |
What the fuck was that? |
Fuck it, leave it in, that shit is phat |
You heard this beat eighty times I’mma still freak it |
And if you notice, my shit don’t even rhyme… |
Look at that. |
I ain’t even got a rap and it’s still phat |
My shit went gold, I got fat knots |
And you’re still flyer’in parking lots |
You might say my vocals are up too loud |
So I’mma turn 'em up louder to piss you off! |
Psychopathic Records are geniuses, get off our penises |
Here comes the chorus, but I got no hook |
Instead I’ll just fuck with the phone book |
(Music cuts. Phone rings, a guy picks up) |
Hello? |
(Slim Anus) |
Yeah uh, Harry Sacks Please? |
(Guy) |
Who is this? |
(Slim Anus) |
Uh Harry, hey this is Slim Anus down at the cannery |
Uh, Dick Shooter left a bulletin, something about, uh |
You filling in his slot tonight down at the, uh, garage |
We got a casement of fudge. |
We need as many packers as we |
Can get, uh uh Sacks |
(Guy) |
…Hello? |
(Music Starts) |
Uh Uh |
(Jamie Maddrox) |
My name is Jamie Maddrox and I got fat balls |
I’m always urinating in the motel halls |
I got a big head that never fits a hat |
So you ain’t see me wearing a damn thing green bitch |
I’m far from rich, I gotta hoopty |
With a smash in the fender, and in the back too |
I gotta a broken tail light and I’ll smash you |
Bitch, get outta my way. |
We got clown love |
Fat props to the lyrical Tom Dub |
(Monoxide Child) |
It’s the M-O-N-O, and I can’t even spell the rest |
It takes too long and I need a fuckin' cigarette |
I can’t hear, my right ear’s mad wack |
So shut the fuck up and listen or get an ass kickin' |
I slap hoes and call them bitches to thier face |
And scream «Now fuck off bitch, Twiztid in the place» |
So back up, recognize and check nuts |
Cause simply my dear, I don’t give a fuck! |
(Music cuts. Phone rings, a guy picks up) |
Psychopathic |
(Mo' Styles) |
Yo, this is Mo' Styles in this piece, what’s up son? |
(Guy) |
Hello? |
(Mo' Styles) |
Yeah, what’s up son? |
I’m lookin' fo this deal |
You know what I’m sayin'? |
I |
Got raps to bust fo y’all. |
Y’all ready fo Mo' Styles? |
I’m 'bout to kick this flow, y’all ready fo this shit or what? |
(Guy) |
Who’s this? |
(Mo' Styles) |
Word up son. |
I’m Mo' Styles, I’m straight from the hood |
I got all my peoples on 1−800 Crenshaw. |
We comin' hard |
(Music Starts) |
Bring it, bring it, bring it |
(Shaggy 2 Dope) |
My names 2 Dope, and sometimes Shaggy |
Sometimes Shags, and sometimes Gweedy |
I get mad stupid, I gets mad ill |
Locked down in all five, fuck it, I do this still |
Stretch my nuts back like a slingshot and plant 'em in your mouth |
Shake my hips like Elvis, wiggling my pelvis |
Last kid that stepped |
I applied a Camel Clutch and stretched his back like |
Motherfuckin' bungee jump |
WAAAAAAH! |
(Music Cuts to Violent J) |
I’m Violent J back to make you smile more |
I let my nutsack drag on the tile floor |
I kick free styles, for miles |
My gold comes in piles, I worked on Belle Isle… |
I picked up deer shit, and now I spit raps… |
I snap your neck… |
Cause my freestyles are fresh… |
(Door Opens, closes) |