The Lonely Island, Chris Parnell - Lazy Sunday 2 lyrics
[The Lonely Island, Chris Parnell - Lazy Sunday 2 lyrics]
Lazy Sunday slept right through my alarm
Activate Siri and say "Call Parns" who dis?
It’s me, man yo Samberg, kick facts
Tonight is the night broadway? Sister Act
The show’s not ’til later
Let’s murk some brunch
I know a cute French place
Meet me outside Crunch my core is ripped
That workout was trill
Man I can almost taste those mimosas for real
The menu changes at three
We’d better start jammin’
I love to have brunch more
Than McAdams loves Channing
Dubstep
Two fifty-nine made it on a technicality
Eggs benedict no yolk
Less calories the plating is cray
I detect sage butter
How you wanna pay Chris?
Go Dutch, motherfucker!
Go to Sister Act like a pistol whack
Buck wild in the streets off a sixer pack
We go to Sister Act
Like we got racks on racks
‘Cause once you buy ‘em
You can’t give your tickets back
Yo, hold up, hold up
Hey, yo, Chris, we’re gonna have to hit
‘em with some new shit for 2012, my dude
So why don’t you drop it
On ‘em like right now?
Allow me to reintroduce myself
My name is Parns p to the A-arns
Scooping bargains
Up at all the Pottery Barns
Young Sandwich and I came to catch reck
Still waitin’ on a fucking YouTube check
Don’t mess with Magnolia ’cause
The line’s too long
Plus it bumps with my cleanse
Now back to the song yo, peep the marquee
They some funny ass nuns
We got ninety-nine problems
But this sitch ain’t one sneak in the flask
Filled with sweet Vermouth
We take more shots in the theater
Than John Wilkes Booth flip-up binocs
‘Cause we’re cultural mavens
Lights dim and we scream out that’s so Raven
Go to Sister Act like a pistol whack
All up in the theater like aristocrats
We gonna Sister Act
Like we got racks on racks
‘Cause once you buy ‘em
You can’t give your tickets back
On these New York streets
I honed my fake rap penmanship
That’s how it began
And that’s how I’ma finish it
Activate Siri and say "Call Parns" who dis?
It’s me, man yo Samberg, kick facts
Tonight is the night broadway? Sister Act
The show’s not ’til later
Let’s murk some brunch
I know a cute French place
Meet me outside Crunch my core is ripped
That workout was trill
Man I can almost taste those mimosas for real
The menu changes at three
We’d better start jammin’
I love to have brunch more
Than McAdams loves Channing
Dubstep
Two fifty-nine made it on a technicality
Eggs benedict no yolk
Less calories the plating is cray
I detect sage butter
How you wanna pay Chris?
Go Dutch, motherfucker!
Go to Sister Act like a pistol whack
Buck wild in the streets off a sixer pack
We go to Sister Act
Like we got racks on racks
‘Cause once you buy ‘em
You can’t give your tickets back
Yo, hold up, hold up
Hey, yo, Chris, we’re gonna have to hit
‘em with some new shit for 2012, my dude
So why don’t you drop it
On ‘em like right now?
Allow me to reintroduce myself
My name is Parns p to the A-arns
Scooping bargains
Up at all the Pottery Barns
Young Sandwich and I came to catch reck
Still waitin’ on a fucking YouTube check
Don’t mess with Magnolia ’cause
The line’s too long
Plus it bumps with my cleanse
Now back to the song yo, peep the marquee
They some funny ass nuns
We got ninety-nine problems
But this sitch ain’t one sneak in the flask
Filled with sweet Vermouth
We take more shots in the theater
Than John Wilkes Booth flip-up binocs
‘Cause we’re cultural mavens
Lights dim and we scream out that’s so Raven
Go to Sister Act like a pistol whack
All up in the theater like aristocrats
We gonna Sister Act
Like we got racks on racks
‘Cause once you buy ‘em
You can’t give your tickets back
On these New York streets
I honed my fake rap penmanship
That’s how it began
And that’s how I’ma finish it