360, PEZ - Pez ‘N' Six lyrics
[360, PEZ - Pez ‘N' Six lyrics]
Uh, yo
Some people seem to think that we're arrogant
Well, you're right
Shit, I rock ridiculous bling
I made this shit at home on my
Own with some glitter and string
Plus I rock Cheezels on all
My fingers as rings
Stole a granny's wheelchair and got
It fitted with rims
Then I got a sound system
Hooked it to the seat
Now my walker has to push me to the beat
(Do it)
Plus we're so famous I got my own stalker
I hate to speak, I've even got my own talker
Stunt doubles, I got three on pay
Fuck performing, this isn't even me on stage
(nah)
I don't record either, shook by the choice
Sixty does the vocals and just
Puts on a voice (What? It's true)
So who's heard of that Xzibit guy?
I took a trolley to his house and told him
"Pimp my ride"
If he didn't then my fists would fly
Mess his face up so bad
Even his fish would cry to pick up girls
I just say that we're rappers
Ask 'em out to dinner then
I take 'em to Maccas (Too cheap)
If the bitch complains then
I'll flip raw dude
But it doesn't bother me 'cause
Then I get more food (Yes)
And fuck Hip-Hop, I only started rhyme
So I can go on Oz Idol and fuck Marcia Hines
(That's it, bend over)
And half my lines, cats question aloud
'Cause, I choose my worst rhymes and
Leave the best ones out (That's how we do)
Ah, PEZ, man
Ah, that-that's the chorus, dude
Are you gonna do a chorus, man? Ah, nah, man
Fuck a hook, all right
Uh, it's Sixty Cent, the vocal bastard
Rockin' fake bling from your local market
Smokin' grass until we're chokin' hard
And I'll smile with gold teeth
In my open casket always on the list for VIP
And these stupid motherfuckers wanna see ID?
Bitch, everyone in here wants to be like me
Plus we don't pay to travel
'cause we fly free
I never catch the train, babies reek
If I did I'd have my own allocated seats
In pinstriped suit's, we dine in class
Our drinks make my taste like wine from casks
And my butcher's got the nicest arse
I've got diamonds in my
Rings made from fibreglass
I need a shit, but I got tired arms
So I'll pay a motherfucker to wipe my arse
Yo, I'm tight with money, I may be Jewish
I don't like to talk, so I can save my fluids
Fuck Bec Cartwright in front
Of Lleyton Hewitt
And tell him Mark Philippoussis made me do it
I don't watch OC on a Tuesday night
I got the whole cast at my
House to do the play live
Send the bitches to my mattress, hop on
Make 'em tell me that I'm rappin' hot songs
And fuck the faggots from Saturn dot com
I only fuck bitches with platinum condoms
(ha ha) so fuck off if I'm not arrogant
I'm so arrogant that I don't
Even have to rhyme
Some people seem to think that we're arrogant
Well, you're right
Shit, I rock ridiculous bling
I made this shit at home on my
Own with some glitter and string
Plus I rock Cheezels on all
My fingers as rings
Stole a granny's wheelchair and got
It fitted with rims
Then I got a sound system
Hooked it to the seat
Now my walker has to push me to the beat
(Do it)
Plus we're so famous I got my own stalker
I hate to speak, I've even got my own talker
Stunt doubles, I got three on pay
Fuck performing, this isn't even me on stage
(nah)
I don't record either, shook by the choice
Sixty does the vocals and just
Puts on a voice (What? It's true)
So who's heard of that Xzibit guy?
I took a trolley to his house and told him
"Pimp my ride"
If he didn't then my fists would fly
Mess his face up so bad
Even his fish would cry to pick up girls
I just say that we're rappers
Ask 'em out to dinner then
I take 'em to Maccas (Too cheap)
If the bitch complains then
I'll flip raw dude
But it doesn't bother me 'cause
Then I get more food (Yes)
And fuck Hip-Hop, I only started rhyme
So I can go on Oz Idol and fuck Marcia Hines
(That's it, bend over)
And half my lines, cats question aloud
'Cause, I choose my worst rhymes and
Leave the best ones out (That's how we do)
Ah, PEZ, man
Ah, that-that's the chorus, dude
Are you gonna do a chorus, man? Ah, nah, man
Fuck a hook, all right
Uh, it's Sixty Cent, the vocal bastard
Rockin' fake bling from your local market
Smokin' grass until we're chokin' hard
And I'll smile with gold teeth
In my open casket always on the list for VIP
And these stupid motherfuckers wanna see ID?
Bitch, everyone in here wants to be like me
Plus we don't pay to travel
'cause we fly free
I never catch the train, babies reek
If I did I'd have my own allocated seats
In pinstriped suit's, we dine in class
Our drinks make my taste like wine from casks
And my butcher's got the nicest arse
I've got diamonds in my
Rings made from fibreglass
I need a shit, but I got tired arms
So I'll pay a motherfucker to wipe my arse
Yo, I'm tight with money, I may be Jewish
I don't like to talk, so I can save my fluids
Fuck Bec Cartwright in front
Of Lleyton Hewitt
And tell him Mark Philippoussis made me do it
I don't watch OC on a Tuesday night
I got the whole cast at my
House to do the play live
Send the bitches to my mattress, hop on
Make 'em tell me that I'm rappin' hot songs
And fuck the faggots from Saturn dot com
I only fuck bitches with platinum condoms
(ha ha) so fuck off if I'm not arrogant
I'm so arrogant that I don't
Even have to rhyme