Soul Khan - Jon Hamm lyrics

God damn y’all couldn’t do this
But Khan can try to ignore me
But that shit is corny
I'll blow up at forty like Jon Hamm

Now lift up your palm like you’re
Picking a star from
A system that’s far far away
Any position, division, or conference
I will still rip it like Jesse Katsopolis
This shit is Bosch no, not Chris
It's Hieronymous painter translation: this
Picture's preposterous
You'd get an Oscar to say this is progress
And last I checked
Oscar still lives in the garbage

Why can't every day be Christmas in Hollis?
My spirit animal's a miniature dachshund
That taught me to sniff through
The business and politics
Deep as a Christopher Wallace breath

They dig in your pockets
And leave you with nothing but
Lint and a promise
And pink slips are all you get
Please get me a Dogfish Head
Cool, now I'm Super like Nintendo Chalmers

God damn y’all couldn’t do this
But Khan can try to ignore me
But that shit is corny
I'll blow up at forty like Jon Hamm

Lately, I’m haunted by terrible thoughts
That make me want to
Holler ‘til Jericho drops
Like how many days does young TerRio got
If his parent don’t stop him
From eating his way

To a burial plot with a cherry on top
Oo killem, you will if you share it and watch
Then click on a pic of an areola
And ask what that mouth do like a periodon
Tist tsk you bury your conscience
Keep telling yourself that the
Babies don't watch us you stare at the box
That created these monsters
These kids ain't grown up right
Like Haley Joel Osment

Turn the monitors and radios off
If we're going downhill
Get your sleighs and toboggans
But back in the fourth grade
My pulse rate would pulsate
Thinking what I would do to Amy Jo Johnson

God damn y’all couldn’t do this
But Khan can try to ignore me
But that shit is corny
I'll blow up at forty like Jon Hamm

Give something, get something like justice
Ride round town on a muddy white cutlass
The horse not the car act funny like douglas
Abortion your thoughts with the
Front of my musket

Lo fi pacinos got no time to reload
We don’t like the g-code we go by bushido
Got an ace up my sleeve
Like a low life casino
My crew is all moonwalkers, no time for Titos

I remember one kid stole my Dorritos
Said one day he would make
It snow by the kilo
Now my taste’s developed, I’m so Sausalito
So don’t crown my head, please
Just stovepipe my genome

The same mind that memorized that
Four score and seven
But still never jeopardized any
Scoreboard in Tekken before your inception
We listened to the griot
If you want the grigio
Put a cork in your questions

God damn y’all couldn’t do this
But Khan can try to ignore me
But that shit is corny
I'll blow up at forty like Jon Hamm