Voli Contra - Ratatat lyrics
[Voli Contra - Ratatat lyrics]
Brake lights, no need dem, me drums
Go Ratatat, liquor elixir
This gasoline make sure me lungs
Go Ratatat, ayiyiyah, Ratatat
Ayiyiyah Ratatat ayiyiyah, Ratatat
See I’m so high but I don’t smoke weed
Don’t do lines but I wrote this speech
I tell em I rule the world
They just don’t know it
You suck at life, so I guess you gonn blow it
Not me tho, No middle America
Rise to the top like I’m
Mixed wit some leavener got it like Nas, it
Was written, novella shit
How can I plot if I live wit no character?
Highway, I’m cruising from CT to NY
FDR to Houston or Howston, confusing
Long as I pronounce the shit out of
My music, I get my exposure
My mentale is nudist
And oooh, come and sample
This exotic, darlin, ooh
Ya know there’s something different
‘bout him darlin, oohh
Nobody gave two shit's about him
Watch as he’s slowly surrounded by all of
These labels like I’m up in Staples
Guess who gonn be shopping, now, uh oh, hey
Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh oh, hey
Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh oh, hey
Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh oh, hey marz Ferrer:
Your Eyes shut wide
With your twisted views of what's right
Your Ears tuned in
Yet when I speak I'm muted
The kings and queens will know my name
And Countless stars will shine for me
And I will rise above your reign
I'm crushing shores like a tidal wave
So, baby, better give me some room
Before your pedestal you’re on
Becomes my footstool
Hello hello hello hello this that arena
That hundred thousand seater
Tell the crowd, "put up your fingers
Come get swallowed by the speakers"
From my city to your city, I go Andre
You fuckers takin shots like paparazzi
I go Kanye and baby, oooh, this feelin
I’m feelin you’re feelin
These white girls are blackin out
Black girls are moshin out
New Martin Luther, I bring ‘em together
They get off on Voli, nouveau KamaSutra
And shout to Rick Rubin, he down with the
Music, no cosign is needed but, shit
I could use it
My wallet is useless, car barely moving
Camry is slow, in my mind, it’s a supra
My killa cam, killa cam
Brokey broke, ridin that killa cam, killa cam
Ratatat tat, revenge of the nerd
How you mad about that?
Now the prom queen want it
Get her outta dat dress
Wit her cheerleader body, got
Her pom-poms sweaty, this
Nerd throw deeper than a quarterback jock
Uh uh uh uh oh hey baby you next huh
Lemme taste your sweat huh
On that east indie, huh
Wanna see you geek wit me uh uh uh oh
Ratatat ayiyiyah Ratatat
Ayiyiyah, Ratatat ayiyiyah Ratatat