| Lyrics: | 3...4...Alright everybody out there.
Comin' to ya live from 93.3 Jacksonville,
Florida.
We're Limp Bizkit, check it out.
I been around the world and then
some.
Dum ditty dum kid where you comin' from?
I went from the garage to steppin' on these
stages,
outrageous rhymes left my mind,
and soon became contagious.
An MC with bad
habits,
I am, see a mic and I grab it.
So scary ain't it?
I'm comin' raw with no
corrections,
Servin' all perfections
For what I do with my erections.
So dream on. And
dream until your dream comes true.
Reality check kid, that's why you're on the deck,
kid.
While you're in your car, no matter where you are.
You lip sink these jams 'cause
you're far from a superstar.
And if you're lonely, hoe.
I ain't the one that gives a damn,
hoe.
I like it so low.
No need to brag about the Heiny, 'cause I'm on the deal,
And
bitches still find me.
And since I got a record on the billboard,
You fish talkin'
bands, with demos in your hands,
Always up my ass, askin' me if I'ma sign 'em.
But ya, don't
flow, it don't flow.
I catch a buzz with the Dom Perignon.
When Jerry Springer's on, no need
to carry on.
What's with all the frustration,
Need a demonstration, punk, to check the
variation.
I might need to be dazed when I taste your lyrical waste, punk.
Because your
lyrical styles, are lyrical what?
I make hysterical piles of all you lyrical
sluts.
(chorus)
I'm doin' time on the rock line [repeats 2x].
I'm doin'
time.
Mish mosh up in the brain, I'm on my cycle.
Like 'em highways, my ways, they're
up and down like the Dow Jones.
I bust these mic |
