TG - Doug Flutie lyrics
[TG - Doug Flutie lyrics]
Yeah we on that pan flute hype
Yo, if you don't like the pan flute, then
Fuck you you're probably racist
Look
All I need is tree and a bottle of whiskey
Screaming fuck the government
Monica Lewinsky skeeter in the front seat
Like I called shotgun massacre on the track
I did this shit in Boston options
I could run the game, but I passed it
Spittin' straight fire
Leavin' all of you in ashes
Flaccid in the paint, I stay goin' Viagra
Never been on Sway cause, bitch
I am the answer
Click so Sandler, natural disaster
Moved to LA, I surpassed the pastor
I'm the real fat bastard
And if you don't know me, there's your girl
Go ask her infamy from infancy
There is no inconsistency bars by the dozen
Like I'm working at a pharmacy
Talk a lot of shit, verbalize sodomy
Crickets in my conscience, man
I understand Jiminy
Surely, I can find myself
Within my own temples been me for a while
Been my own parental
Sobriety beyond some intercontinental
Kept my eyes on the prize
Now my eyes look oriental
I must be The Devil, man
It's always hot around me
Fire weed and fire trucks
Sirens I am sounding
Getting loud, staying quiet
Indica now I'ma sleep
8-sack and codeine, yeah man life is sweet
Civil disobedience
Sippin' on some lean-ience
This shit be some Looney Tunes
I'm up in space jammin' it
Up in space paxin' it
All that hasn't happened yet
I don't give a fuck so, in a way
I'm celibate i be on a roll
Like I fucking made the dean's list
Made for going gold but
I don't fucking need it
I'm a virtue in the tough
And I'm broke, that's commonwealth
This shit ride the short bus
Someone check it's mental health
Yeah shoutout to Mumford and his Sons
Shoutout to the Nina
The Pinta & the Santa Maria
And shoutout to the town of Anchorage, Alaska
I've never been there
But it's probably pretty chill
Yo, if you don't like the pan flute, then
Fuck you you're probably racist
Look
All I need is tree and a bottle of whiskey
Screaming fuck the government
Monica Lewinsky skeeter in the front seat
Like I called shotgun massacre on the track
I did this shit in Boston options
I could run the game, but I passed it
Spittin' straight fire
Leavin' all of you in ashes
Flaccid in the paint, I stay goin' Viagra
Never been on Sway cause, bitch
I am the answer
Click so Sandler, natural disaster
Moved to LA, I surpassed the pastor
I'm the real fat bastard
And if you don't know me, there's your girl
Go ask her infamy from infancy
There is no inconsistency bars by the dozen
Like I'm working at a pharmacy
Talk a lot of shit, verbalize sodomy
Crickets in my conscience, man
I understand Jiminy
Surely, I can find myself
Within my own temples been me for a while
Been my own parental
Sobriety beyond some intercontinental
Kept my eyes on the prize
Now my eyes look oriental
I must be The Devil, man
It's always hot around me
Fire weed and fire trucks
Sirens I am sounding
Getting loud, staying quiet
Indica now I'ma sleep
8-sack and codeine, yeah man life is sweet
Civil disobedience
Sippin' on some lean-ience
This shit be some Looney Tunes
I'm up in space jammin' it
Up in space paxin' it
All that hasn't happened yet
I don't give a fuck so, in a way
I'm celibate i be on a roll
Like I fucking made the dean's list
Made for going gold but
I don't fucking need it
I'm a virtue in the tough
And I'm broke, that's commonwealth
This shit ride the short bus
Someone check it's mental health
Yeah shoutout to Mumford and his Sons
Shoutout to the Nina
The Pinta & the Santa Maria
And shoutout to the town of Anchorage, Alaska
I've never been there
But it's probably pretty chill