Madchild, DJ Q-Bert - Pregnant lyrics

I make heads nod like
A hot-rod with hydraulics
The beer drinkin' rapper plastered
Like the alcoholics
I smash kids that frolic or
Tip-toe through the tulips
Smack a bowcat then whip his
Ass like an orange
With aggression I sanction on the mic
Feel the pressure from the people frantic
Branded as the young gun professor
Yes sir i'm fresher
I don't need to be a boaster
But i'm the guy that's fly
Like the great space coaster
One tough cookie
Still a rookie with the kids
To have all the girls feelin all
The pockets in my pants?
No, but I hope I can do the hokey-pokey
Turn myself around, kid
Cause I'm still fucking broke

Girls jock the way I
Rock this obnoxious concoction
I'm swift with the gift to talking
Quick like at an auction
The angry kid about to flip my
Lid and rock the cradle
Try to battle, it's suicidal
My style is fatal, so
Strap on the wrist-straps I
Never kiss the piss-flaps
When I rap I tap the bottle then I twist caps
But, I be the better MC
Cause my initials are official
Artificial styles get me riled
Up and that's rough, pup
Your stuff sucks and I get
Wild and it's tough luck you space case
Put mace in your face, no distortion
I'm taking out kids on the
Mic like an abortion
They're forcing these punk off the
Stage as they squeal
But still, I'd like a real record deal

Its the motha with the fuck
And the mad nasty bastard
Making shit flip cause you knows we have to
Call me Dred Scott cause I
Got nothin' ta lose
When Q's on the ones and the twos
Fools see me comin in the year of '94
So let me grab another Heiny from the store
Enter the dragon if you're
Laggin' on the two-step yeah
You slept on the J to the D E F
Guess it's kinda easy when
You're in the background
But here's a new sound baby that I found
So check the linguistics cause I'm
Sweet like lip stick
And if the liquor's there
I'm going to get licked quick
For real though
People just wanna fuck your mind
But, I just have the beat
Hit me two more times
Cause it's one for the treble
Two for the Honda Civic
If you don't know who this is
I'ma tell you who it is
Its the Asian Caucasian from the
Make a lot of damn beats
But I'm still flat broke
So big up to my niggas of the BS crew
Hey, crystal's in the house, yo
I thought you knew

I'm dapper
Smooth over the rough like a lapper
'86 skater later turned into a rapper
So, clap your hands to the beat vibe
But my shoes are old news and
Iv'e got holes in my socks
I rocks the mic swell in
This group What the Hell
Well here's a little story I've got to tell
About two bad b-boys with
Big hopes and dreams
Who drive across the country just
To step on the scene
I signed the dotted-line but I
Guess i'm a bust
Because i've been livin' in my
Car for about 6 months
Without a, pot to piss in
Listen up to my story
They didn't even think of saying sorry
But back on track, to the fact
A record contract is usually black
So if you got one
Be prepared to get a lawyer
Or you'll be up shit's creek without a paddle
Oh yeah, it's no joke my friends
So you must run
Cause mama's don't want you to get burned
But me, i live for Hip-Hop so I'll
Keep rhyming and stuff
And just remember my name
Cause, I'm a diamond in the rough

Madchild