lirik lagu jordan miché – 12 o’clock
pump a fist
if you’re sitting at the bus stop
sipping on generic pop
if this tune rocks
roll it up like tube socks
from the mellow yellow
to the velcro shoes
it’s that groovy smooth dude
with the cooley high voodoo
spiking yoo-hoo with kahlua
since the fifth-grade
present day
turning tables
line one
frying mic cables
ok?
now that we’re on the same page
you’ll never see this emcee
and a sucker
share the same stage
or taking the elevator together
i hate elevators
eating all the birthday cake
your demise celebrator
give me five
deejay
keep the beat recycling
drive without a seatbelt
i’m a rebel to society
12 o’clock
open up the coffin
drop the record raw kid
don’t blink an eyelid
what
12 o’clock
that’s what they say
always on the dl
initials of my middle-name
danger is the phrase
most people say
when they’re afraid
you see the mic’s in my last name
divine elevation
reigning down from heaven
pure destruction
when the blast came
watch me change the rap game
to the red sea
with dead emcees
belly up
d-mned
in the mainstream
digging deeper now
reach beneath the surface
flood the earth with worms
feel the vibration of the warships
tormented lyricist
war of the worlds
type attack
dropping language
bombs like
george hitler
smoking crack
dreaming of a threesome
with the bush twins
bound to stick those sisters someday
not just talking push pins
200 pounds
i got plenty of cushion for the pushing
big smelly teddy bear
i wanna smell what momma’s cooking
home grown
you can tell by the phone groan
they call this service all the time
been known to make them both moan
like koko
big ugly dude
touching kittens
white gorilla
man or myth?
bless the mic
and kiss it-
rapping’s my gift
that you’ll never get for christmas
nightmare on beat street
high noon
with a hit list
12 o’clock
open up the coffin
drop the record raw kid
don’t blink an eyelid
what
12 o’clock
that’s what they say
here comes the matador
say my name more than a
communist dictatorship
bagging chips
finger-l!cking
nacho
business
speaks in third-person
when he raps in cursive
sitting up in the hospital bed
eats vicodin like nurses
grab the double d’s
batteries not included
take it out and blow
my nintendo needs to be rebooted
but not with timbalands
doc’s
jungle boots
or scholl’s
i don’t need to join the marines
in order to go commando
like rambo
and l-sso
all of you fatties
sucking hambones
with my split-ident-ty’s
schizophrenic trinity
i can go on for inifinity
believe me
but just because i can
doesn’t mean you can too
it’s not that easy
repeat after me
believe me
but just because i can
doesn’t mean you can too
it’s not that easy
repeat after me
believe me
but just because i can
doesn’t mean you can too
it’s not that easy
repeat after me
i said
repeat after me
but just because i can
doesn’t mean you can too
it’s not that easy
but just because i can
doesn’t mean you can too
it’s not that easy
12 o’clock
open up the coffin
drop the record raw kid
don’t blink an eyelid
what
12 o’clock
that’s what they say
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