My beats are phat and the birds are on my back And I’m horny I’m horny If you choose to proceed you will indeed concede Cos I hit you with my flow The Wild Rhino Stampede. I’m not just wild, I’m trained, Domesticated I was raised by a rapper and rhino that dated And subsequently procreated That’s how it goes Here’s the Hiphopopotamus The hip hop hippo They call me the Hiphopopotamus My lyrics are bottomless
TOO MANY ****S ON THE DANCE FLOOR TOO MANY ****S ON THE DANCE FLOOR TOO MANY ****S TOO MANY ****S ON THE DANCE FLOOR TOO MANY ****S TOO MANY ****S ON THE DANCE FLOOR TOO MANY ****S GOING TO THE PARTY SIPPIN' ON BACARDI WANNA MEET A HOTTIE BUT THERE'S ADAM, STEVE AND MARTY THERE'S BILLY, TODD AND TOMMY THEY'RE ON LEAVE FROM THE ARMY THE ONLY BOOBS I'LL SEE TONIGHT WILL BE MADE OF ORIGAMI TELL THE PLAYERS, MAKE IT UNDERSTOOD IT AIN'T NO GOOD IF THERE'S TOO MUCH WOOD MAKE SURE YOU KNOW BEFORE YOU GO THE DANCE FLOOR BRO-HOE RATIO FIVE TO ONE IS A BRODEO TELL STEVE AND MIKE IT'S TIME TO GO WAIT OUTSIDE ALL NIGHT TO FIND TWENTY DUDES IN A CONGA LINE TOO MANY ****S ON THE DANCE FLOOR EASY TO FIX TOO MANY ****S ON THE DANCE FLOOR SPREAD OUT THE ****S TOO MANY DUDES WITH TOO MANY ****S TOO CLOSE TO MY **** TOO HARD TO MEET CHICKS I NEED BETTER ODDS MORE BROADS, LESS RODS I CAME TO DO BATTLE SCADADDLE WITH THE CATTLE PRODS TOO MANY MEN TOO MANY BOYS TOO MANY MISTERS NOT ENOUGH SISTERS TOO MUCH TIME ON, TOO MANY HANDS NOT ENOUGH LADIES, TOO MANY MANS TOO MANY ****S TOO MANY DONGS TOO MANY SCHLONGS NOW SING THIS SONGa
OOO: I actaully know that song. They call me the Hiphopopotamus Flows that glow like phosphorous Poppin’ off the top of this esophagus Rockin’ this metropolis I’m not a large water-dwelling mammal Where did you get that preposterous hypothesis? Did Steve tell you that, perchance? Steve. My rhymes and records they don’t get played Because my records and rhymes they don’t get made And if you rap like me you don’t get paid And if you roll like me you don’t get laid. My rhymes are so potent that in this small segment I made all of the ladies in the area pregnant Yes, sometimes my lyrics are sexist But you lovely *****es and hoes should know I’m trying to correct this. Other rappers dis me Say my rhymes are sissy. Why? Why? Why? What? Why exactly? What? Why? Be more constructive with your feedback, please. Why? Why? Why, because I rap about reality? Like me and my grandma drinking a cup of tea? There ain’t no party like my nanna’s tea party. Hey! Ho! I’m the motherflippin’ I’m the motherflippin’ I’m the motherflippin’ Who’s the motherflippin? I’m the motherflippin’ I’m the motherflippin’ I’m the motherflippin’ Motherflippin’
Too many mutha uckas Uckin' with my shi- There's too many mutha uckas Uckin' with my shi- Uckin' with my shi- Too many mutha uckas Uckin' with my shi- With my shi- How many mutha uckas? Too many to count Mutha uckas I pay my mutha uckin' rent fortnightly Mutha uckas at the bank trying to play me And I'm out for my account 'Cause out on A.P On A.P. Yeah, you know me Mutha ucka charge a two buck transaction fee Makes my payment short My rent comes back to me Minus a twenty-five dollar penalty So you'll fee me 'cause of your mutha uckin' fee Read the words On my ATM slip, it said We're all mutha uckas And we're uckin' with your shi- Come on Too many mutha uckas Uckin' with my shi- My transaction shi-! There's too many mutha uckas Uckin' with my shi- My weekly statement shi-! Too many mutha uckas Uckin' with my shi- With my balance shi-! How many mutha uckas? Too many to count Mutha uckas The mutha ucka runs a racist uckin' grocery The mutha ucka won't sell an apple to a Kiwi The shi- fight's gonna get vicious and malicious Cut the cra- I need my red delicious Tells me as a Kiwi that my money isn't valid Gonna dice the mutha ucka like a mutha uckin' fruit salad Then... ... Granny Smith... ... ... an avocado... ... b-... -a... ... ... a mango... ... Then pop an apple in his ass, yeah! Too many mutha uckas Uckin' with my shi- I'm gonna juice the mutha ucka There's too many mutha uckas Uckin' with my shi- He's gonna wake up in a smoothie Too many mutha uckas Uckin' with my Everybody come on!
Inner city life. Inner city pressure. The concrete world is starting to get ya. The city is alive, the city is expanding. Living in the city can be demanding. You pawned everything, everything you owned. Your tooth brush jar and a camera phone. You don't know where you're going. You cross the street, you don't know why you did. You walk back across the street. Standing in the sitting room. Totally stint. And your favorite jersey is covered in lint. You want to sit down but you sold your chair. So you just stand there. You just stand there... (YOU JUST STAND THERE!) Inner. Inner city. Inner city pressure. Counting coins on the counter of the 7/11. From a quarter past six til a quarter to seven. The manager, Bevin, starts to abuse me. Hey man, I just want some musely. Neon signs, hidden messages. Questions, answers, fetishes. You know you're not in high finance. Considering second hand underpants. Check your mind, how'd it get so bad? What happened to those other underpants you had? Look in your pockets, haven't found a cent yet. Tenants on your balls, "have you payed your rent yet?" Inner. Inner city. Inner city pressure. Inner. Inner city. Inner city pressure. So you think maybe you'll be a prostitute. Just to pay for your lessons, you're learning the flute. Ladies wouldn't pay you very much for this. Looks like you'll never be a concert flutist. You don't measure up to the expectation. When you're unemployed, there's no vacation. No one cares, no one sympathizes. You just stay home and play synthesizers. Inner. Inner city. Inner city pressure. Inner. Inner city. Inner city pressure.
WHY DO THEY ALWAYS SEND THE POOR! Barbarisms by Barbaras With pointed heels. Victorious, victories kneel. For brand new spankin' deals. Marching forward hypocritic And hypnotic computers. You depend on our protection, Yet you feed us lies from the table cloth. La la la la la la la la la, Everybody’s going to the party have a real good time. Dancing in the desert blowing up the sunshine. Kneeling roses disappearing, Into Moses’ dry mouth, Breaking into Fort Knox, Stealing our intentions, Hangars sitting dripped in oil, Crying FREEDOM! Handed to obsoletion, Still you feed us lies from the table cloth. La la la la la la la la la, Everybody’s going to the party have a real good time. Dancing in the desert blowing up the sunshine. Everybody’s going to the party have a real good time. Dancing in the desert blowing up the sunshine. Blast off, it's party time, And we don't live in a fascist nation, Blast off, it's party time, And where the **** are you? Where the **** are you? Where the **** are you? Why don’t presidents fight the war? Why do they always send the poor? Why don’t presidents fight the war? Why do they always send the poor? [X4] Kneeling roses disappearing, Into Moses’ dry mouth, Breaking into Fort Knox, Stealing our intentions, Hangars sitting dripped in oil, Crying FREEDOM! Handed to obsoletion, Still you feed us lies from the tablecloth. La la la la la la la la la, Everybody’s going to the party have a real good time. Dancing in the desert blowing up the sunshine. Everybody’s going to the party have a real good time. Dancing in the desert blowing up the sunshine Where the **** are you! Where the **** are you! Why don’t presidents fight the war? Why do they always send the poor? Why don’t presidents fight the war? C-C-C-Combo Breaker.
**** **** PISS ASS COCKSUCKING MOTHER****ER TITS FART TURD AND TWAT **** **** PISS ASS COCKSUCKING MOTHER****ER TITS FART TURD AND TWAT **** **** PISS ASS COCKSUCKING MOTHER****ER TITS FART TURD AND TWAT I ****ED YOUR MOMa
Well twat isn't really a classic curse, and... well, I'm not sure why tits isn't censored. Edit: oh lol cocksucker.
Now, this is a story all about how My life got flipped-turned upside down And I liked to take a minute Just sit right there I'll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel Air In west Philadelphia born and raised On the playground was where I spent most of my days Chillin' out maxin' relaxin' all cool And all shootin some b-ball outside of the school When a couple of guys Who were up to no good Startin making trouble in my neighborhood I got in one little fight and my mom got scared She said 'You're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel Air' I begged and pleaded with her day after day But she packed my suite case and send me on my way She gave me a kiss and then she gave me my ticket. I put my walkman on and said, 'I might as well kick it'. First class, yo this is bad Drinking orange juice out of a champagne glass. Is this what the people of Bel-Air Living like? Hmmmmm this might be alright. But wait I hear there're prissy, wine all that Is Bel-Air the type of place they send this cool cat? I don't think sow I'll see when I get there I hope they're prepared for the prince of Bel-Air Well, the plane landed and when I came out There was a dude who looked like a cop standing there with my name out I ain't trying to get arrested I just got here I sprang with the quickness like lightening, disappeared I whistled for a cab and when it came near The license plate said fresh and it had dice in the mirror If anything I can say this cab is rare But I thought 'Now forget it' - 'Yo homes to Bel Air' I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8 And I yelled to the cabbie 'Yo homes smell ya later' I looked at my kingdom I was finally there To sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel Air
