lirik lagu the palmer squares - holler
(stank… face… face…)
(hey)
[hook x2]
when we hop on-stage
hip-hop all day
hop off
they hollerin’
(hey)
from the top of the page
top notch with a phrase
drop knowledge
i’m hollerin’
(hey)
hollerin’ hey, hey
hollerin’ hey, hey
hollerin’ hey, hey
hollerin’ hey, hey
[verse 1: ac-mental]
i’m the inchoation of a sinful nation
syncopation when i bring the b-ss in
there’s a basin in the bas-m-nt that i bathe in
in summation: i’m a filthy vagrant
faded, living in a hippy haven
don’t implicate me in your situation
i spike the cup, yeah, i spice it up
like a hint of bay leaf with a pinch of basil
i’m a paratrooper, a party p–per
a square shooter with a large bazooka
a cta train car commuter
finna’ trot the globe like a harlem hooper
chupacabra, hoot and holler at your
hoochie momma, like “who’s your papa?”
shooting vodka, loop the mantra
puke up lava in the booth, i’m hot bruh
the vigilant villain, sipping a guinness
infinite limits above and i’m digging a ditch
twisting a swish then i’m ripping that sh-t
from beginning to finish
i’m barely alive, really in charge
alien life on a mission to mars
head to bank with a check for a million large
finna’ bang on my chest, no gorilla no tarzan
i’m over the edge, over my dosage
under the influence, puffing a pipe
one of you mugs got a light?
we make you jump on some things
that go bump in the night
hollering hey, hollering hey
you’re not in my league
so get out of my way
in the majors, making phenomenal plays
like swing for the bleachers
slide to the plate
[verse 2: terminal knowledge]
turn down for what?
term prefers to sound loud as f-ck
bottoms up, rotten luck
a pound of ganja?
that’s not enough
herb to burn, pot to puff
turning in circles around the sun
panic attacks, camera flashes
ashes to ashes, cosmic dust
la di da di, rock the party
sake bombs, kamikazes
oxycontin and poppy seeds
pop a molly just rock with me
obviously thots want the d
she dropped to her knees
hot tamale
holly jolly, golly gee
olly olly oxen free
i’m a child at recess
dotting the i’s
crossing the t
apostrophe s
traumatized, blunt force
blood sport i’m the offense, defense
live life in non-completion
i think i’ve gone off the deep end
constantly stressed without a reason
a godless heathen, i gotta repent
save your soul, pay the toll
hold no faith just aiming low
straight broke, scr-ping a bowl
my brain is slow with great big holes in it
no limit, copy and paste
rock bottom, locked in a cage
if you’re not acquainted with the squad
then you ought to be
stank face, hollering hey
[hook x1]
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