Buddy Lembeck Lyrics
| Song | Buddy Lembeck |
| Artist | Diabolic |
| Album | The Disconnect |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Sean George | |
| 作曲 : Sean George | |
| [Intro] | |
| Hey yo I’m not with all this industry shit man | |
| I’m telling you these dudes is… they on some other shit | |
| [Verse] | |
| You won’t see me in some stupid *****’s sex tap | |
| I’ll shoot sperm in an alien’s uterus to gestate | |
| Take DNA and fuse it with my best traits | |
| Till Rosemary’s baby kicks through and splits her breastplate | |
| A real headcase - you ain’t seen such a crazy animal on these drums since you were watching Muppet babies | |
| My life’s a living hell I’m stuck in Hades | |
| Twistin' L’s, in this prison cell Satan custom made me | |
| Mama raised me not to care so when 'Bolic hears suicide mission | |
| I raise my hand and volunteer | |
| Poppin' beer in vehicles I commandeer | |
| Tryna steer till it’s a total wreck like muhammadeer | |
| I need some vodka here, now I’m feeling intimate | |
| At this hole in the wall, like power drills I spin a bit | |
| My style is ill like salmonella, chicken shit | |
| Cowards kneel, you can suck a sour dill with syphilis | |
| That’s how I feel. In town I’m still as infamous | |
| Cuz I set out to build and found the will to finish it | |
| Without a deal. Ate a thousand pills from limitless | |
| Now brilliant physicists sound like children’s gibberish | |
| Still to intricate for them to map my genomes | |
| When they extract the piece swabbing flesh attached to cheek bones | |
| So you could say he met his match when he’s cloned | |
| Two can play at that game. Instead I’d rather be stoned | |
| A lone gunman quiet as he goes hunting | |
| For dead presidents grassy knoll Jackie O’s husband | |
| Shells flying like Super Mario’s jumping | |
| A wise man who once told police that he knows nothing | |
| With the skeletons from my past be low tucked in | |
| The same spot I keep tacky clothes and crappy old stuff in | |
| I’m sho’ loving hip hop at these shows bugging | |
| Minus VH1’s classy hoes and sadly Joe Budden | |
| My happy won’t function | |
| I’m a nasty mo’****n old drunken ******* | |
| Feeling that he’s owed something | |
| If I was ever famous like that Abbey Road junction | |
| I’d go on Joan Lunden’s show drunk with flashy gold fronts in | |
| Roll blunts and get a co-host to smoke some ganja | |
| Saying “**** the world, that’s a message from our local sponsor” | |
| I’m a monster that Jehovah conjured going bonkers | |
| Born high getting more live than the cult in Contra | |
| Golden chakra godly flow the dopest | |
| After the throne bad to the bone like osteoporosis | |
| At the last supper eating sloppy Joes with Moses | |
| Then it’s adios **** you and the maricons you roll with | |
| Throwing blows with whoever’s swinging back at me | |
| Mollywhopping you’re rocking the RZA's rings from Tragedy | |
| Think erratically no strings attached to me | |
| Rappers say bars I’m thinking ladies drinking at them free | |
| Will take your magazine ads to cut the excess | |
| And paste letters to make ransom notes with funny death threats | |
| Wearing bummy threads dressed like scruffy rednecks | |
| With 20 friends who get their hair cut like Buddy Lembeck | |
| Really I’m in the booth with a dusty headset | |
| And funky breath after the same respect Doug E Fresh gets | |
| So yes yes y’all to the beat I get mine | |
| Diabolic signing off - **** you till next time |
| zuo ci : Sean George | |
| zuo qu : Sean George | |
| Intro | |
| Hey yo I' m not with all this industry shit man | |
| I' m telling you these dudes is they on some other shit | |
| Verse | |
| You won' t see me in some stupid ' s sex tap | |
| I' ll shoot sperm in an alien' s uterus to gestate | |
| Take DNA and fuse it with my best traits | |
| Till Rosemary' s baby kicks through and splits her breastplate | |
| A real headcase - you ain' t seen such a crazy animal on these drums since you were watching Muppet babies | |
| My life' s a living hell I' m stuck in Hades | |
| Twistin' L' s, in this prison cell Satan custom made me | |
| Mama raised me not to care so when ' Bolic hears suicide mission | |
| I raise my hand and volunteer | |
| Poppin' beer in vehicles I commandeer | |
| Tryna steer till it' s a total wreck like muhammadeer | |
| I need some vodka here, now I' m feeling intimate | |
| At this hole in the wall, like power drills I spin a bit | |
| My style is ill like salmonella, chicken shit | |
| Cowards kneel, you can suck a sour dill with syphilis | |
| That' s how I feel. In town I' m still as infamous | |
| Cuz I set out to build and found the will to finish it | |
| Without a deal. Ate a thousand pills from limitless | |
| Now brilliant physicists sound like children' s gibberish | |
| Still to intricate for them to map my genomes | |
| When they extract the piece swabbing flesh attached to cheek bones | |
| So you could say he met his match when he' s cloned | |
| Two can play at that game. Instead I' d rather be stoned | |
| A lone gunman quiet as he goes hunting | |
| For dead presidents grassy knoll Jackie O' s husband | |
| Shells flying like Super Mario' s jumping | |
| A wise man who once told police that he knows nothing | |
| With the skeletons from my past be low tucked in | |
| The same spot I keep tacky clothes and crappy old stuff in | |
| I' m sho' loving hip hop at these shows bugging | |
| Minus VH1' s classy hoes and sadly Joe Budden | |
| My happy won' t function | |
| I' m a nasty mo' n old drunken | |
| Feeling that he' s owed something | |
| If I was ever famous like that Abbey Road junction | |
| I' d go on Joan Lunden' s show drunk with flashy gold fronts in | |
| Roll blunts and get a co-host to smoke some ganja | |
| Saying " the world, that' s a message from our local sponsor" | |
| I' m a monster that Jehovah conjured going bonkers | |
| Born high getting more live than the cult in Contra | |
| Golden chakra godly flow the dopest | |
| After the throne bad to the bone like osteoporosis | |
| At the last supper eating sloppy Joes with Moses | |
| Then it' s adios you and the maricons you roll with | |
| Throwing blows with whoever' s swinging back at me | |
| Mollywhopping you' re rocking the RZA' s rings from Tragedy | |
| Think erratically no strings attached to me | |
| Rappers say bars I' m thinking ladies drinking at them free | |
| Will take your magazine ads to cut the excess | |
| And paste letters to make ransom notes with funny death threats | |
| Wearing bummy threads dressed like scruffy rednecks | |
| With 20 friends who get their hair cut like Buddy Lembeck | |
| Really I' m in the booth with a dusty headset | |
| And funky breath after the same respect Doug E Fresh gets | |
| So yes yes y' all to the beat I get mine | |
| Diabolic signing off - you till next time |
| zuò cí : Sean George | |
| zuò qǔ : Sean George | |
| Intro | |
| Hey yo I' m not with all this industry shit man | |
| I' m telling you these dudes is they on some other shit | |
| Verse | |
| You won' t see me in some stupid ' s sex tap | |
| I' ll shoot sperm in an alien' s uterus to gestate | |
| Take DNA and fuse it with my best traits | |
| Till Rosemary' s baby kicks through and splits her breastplate | |
| A real headcase - you ain' t seen such a crazy animal on these drums since you were watching Muppet babies | |
| My life' s a living hell I' m stuck in Hades | |
| Twistin' L' s, in this prison cell Satan custom made me | |
| Mama raised me not to care so when ' Bolic hears suicide mission | |
| I raise my hand and volunteer | |
| Poppin' beer in vehicles I commandeer | |
| Tryna steer till it' s a total wreck like muhammadeer | |
| I need some vodka here, now I' m feeling intimate | |
| At this hole in the wall, like power drills I spin a bit | |
| My style is ill like salmonella, chicken shit | |
| Cowards kneel, you can suck a sour dill with syphilis | |
| That' s how I feel. In town I' m still as infamous | |
| Cuz I set out to build and found the will to finish it | |
| Without a deal. Ate a thousand pills from limitless | |
| Now brilliant physicists sound like children' s gibberish | |
| Still to intricate for them to map my genomes | |
| When they extract the piece swabbing flesh attached to cheek bones | |
| So you could say he met his match when he' s cloned | |
| Two can play at that game. Instead I' d rather be stoned | |
| A lone gunman quiet as he goes hunting | |
| For dead presidents grassy knoll Jackie O' s husband | |
| Shells flying like Super Mario' s jumping | |
| A wise man who once told police that he knows nothing | |
| With the skeletons from my past be low tucked in | |
| The same spot I keep tacky clothes and crappy old stuff in | |
| I' m sho' loving hip hop at these shows bugging | |
| Minus VH1' s classy hoes and sadly Joe Budden | |
| My happy won' t function | |
| I' m a nasty mo' n old drunken | |
| Feeling that he' s owed something | |
| If I was ever famous like that Abbey Road junction | |
| I' d go on Joan Lunden' s show drunk with flashy gold fronts in | |
| Roll blunts and get a co-host to smoke some ganja | |
| Saying " the world, that' s a message from our local sponsor" | |
| I' m a monster that Jehovah conjured going bonkers | |
| Born high getting more live than the cult in Contra | |
| Golden chakra godly flow the dopest | |
| After the throne bad to the bone like osteoporosis | |
| At the last supper eating sloppy Joes with Moses | |
| Then it' s adios you and the maricons you roll with | |
| Throwing blows with whoever' s swinging back at me | |
| Mollywhopping you' re rocking the RZA' s rings from Tragedy | |
| Think erratically no strings attached to me | |
| Rappers say bars I' m thinking ladies drinking at them free | |
| Will take your magazine ads to cut the excess | |
| And paste letters to make ransom notes with funny death threats | |
| Wearing bummy threads dressed like scruffy rednecks | |
| With 20 friends who get their hair cut like Buddy Lembeck | |
| Really I' m in the booth with a dusty headset | |
| And funky breath after the same respect Doug E Fresh gets | |
| So yes yes y' all to the beat I get mine | |
| Diabolic signing off - you till next time |
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