Benny Troung, Lord Frith - Call Provolone lyrics

[Benny Troung, Lord Frith - Call Provolone lyrics]

I'm so drained i'm so tired i'm exhausted

And ya say New York City
And ya and ya say New York City
And ya say New York City
And ya and ya say New York City

Uh, uh
Happy birthday, I bought you a bag of dope
(Happy birthday) go ahead, smoke it up
Have you seeing jackalopes (What the fuck?)
Benny on the mic, Provolone on the saxophone
You are now playin' Double
Dragon meets Battletoads (Huh-hya)
That's a classic, highly regarded (yeah)
Slightly retarded, I survived the abortion
(Duh)
My momma went back and asked for a refund
(I want my money back)
Bitch, I'm turnin' thirteen in three months
Every b day has been the worst b day
Except for the one where I got my first BJ
(Got my dick sucked)
Nowadays catch me beggin' by the freeway
Or selling used socks to gay dudes on E bay
(O oh)
Ask Max, me and him started clockin' cheese
They found out, said we violated policies
(What?)
What the fuck, man, a playboy gotta eat
Now we got your girlfriend turning
Tricks across the street shit

Uh, yeah hop on tracks like I ain't
Got the will to live (Boo hoo hoo)
Feelin' brash off the kind of
Pills that killed some kids
The body ain't built for this
Hardly chill but still the shiz
Leavin' chicks filled with jizz and bills
For all the disks they slipped (Augh)
Skip the foreplay, fuck what them whores say
Ask Jorge, I'm glorious times catorce (Si)
Never sorry like the board game
The lord came
To purify and tame a never ending
List of bores and lames (Shit)
I can handle em'
Cannibal with the mannerisms
Make you understand no living man could
Ever plan to diss him
Fans from the Atlantic, San Fran
And every planet system
Annually banish Stans with
Banter induced aneurysms
Causin' schisms with the rhythm of the rhyme
Don't gotta drop dimes
Hoes would rather do the time
Than face the grimiest scumfuck that
Ever you could find
Out my mind by design, six five ninety-nine
Yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah, look
These are hard times, we drink hard liquor
Hard lives, barflies
You don't want our livers
Our kidneys, our lungs are already problems
(Agent Troung
You done tested positive for all drugs)
Call Provolone said I need a helping hand
Yeah y'all, domes blown with this M1 Garand
(That's a gun)
Program a drone, missile strikes on demand
Left a gram in the van
Now we banned from Iran, man
(Damn) clean getaway, the team celebrates
But we done seen some shit
We can't never say (Secrets)
We goin' mad like the
Leader of Heaven's Gate
Waitin' for the comet
It's comin' by any day (Pchoo)
Where you gonna be when the
Shit hit's the fan
I'll be with your bitch gettin'
Licked on my glans
Somewhere in the woods where we
Live off the land (yeah)
Nudist colony, sixty bitches one man, damn

Smokin' herb mane smokin' herb mane
Smokin' herb, smokin' herb
Smokin' herb mane
Drinkin', drinkin', drinkin'
Until I can't feel my nerves, mane
Ha ha hahaha
Give me the keys to these locks!
I don't have any keys
Give me the keys to the lock!
I don't have a key, I don't know anything!
Give me the key! I don't have-

Interpretation for


Add Interpretation

Add extended interpretation

If you know what the artist is talking about, can read between the lines, and know the history of the song, you can add interpretation to the lyrics. After checking by our editors, we will add it as the official interpretation of the song!

Latest added interpretations to lyrics

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Interpret