lirik lagu stupid dancing people – charles hamilton
look dummy, i got good money. i’m going to toss it at your hip if you look like a mummy. i only like egyptian chicks who switch they figure, and hips whenever they walk into a room. often i -ssume i could be walking in my doom. so i treat the dancefloor like it’s my doom. and you are the wife and it’s the groom. says me to the dj, “play your favorite record.” while i lay with a lady record. respected. her skirt was wet because she decided to get flirted with mr. eckerd. now, do you know what that means? once i figure it out… yo, that’s mean. flow is mad crack. bars are obscene. you dancing to this? you are a teen. argue, please! are you being an r-u-p-e-r-t murdoch when it comes to saying you don’t know what you’ve got? trying to be a boss of saying charles is not a holocaust when it comes to speaking with a floss. my flow is amazing. so i’m like an asian when it comes to procreating
stupid people want to think but no one wants to dance
stupid people want to glance but no one wants to drink
open up a little bit and find out who you are
just another idiot who’s praying to the stars
hi, god. not “high,” as in, you’re going to die. but i want to survive. so strike me down while i’m on the mic, and i will be the hardest rapper alive. because i will keep spitting. this is recorded like a voicemail. i’m spitting with support of people who have intercourse with the baddest b-tches in new york. right, boe? or, right ho? and an ok, coming from me to anybody will mean you got to get nice though. like, i’m dope. so don’t worry about any of my quotes. i break sh-t down. how ancient how i have my sacred style. god d-mn, this dayquil is k!lling me! so you mean i’m really ill with my soliloquies?
stupid people want to think but no one wants to dance
stupid people want to glance but no one wants to drink
open up a little bit and find out who you are
just another idiot who’s praying to the stars
oh! sh-t! i’ve got to go in again. i’m actually talking to the engineer. but since i’m flowing so sick on this whole sh-t, no one noticed it. i’m trying to act like the guy from touched by an angel who just throws the sh-t and the ball goes swish. oh my god, do you even know what episode that is? i’m on some baking soda sh-t – harlem needs me, but y’all defeat me. add the c-ke of which you would know exists because of some dude who’s mad old and sh-t. and i’d be the product. hot stuff, deny me of that stuff. the thot stuff, the thigh juice, a lime-a-rita. i’m actually a celebrity, but i don’t want to be one
stupid people want to think but no one wants to dance
stupid people want to glance but no one wants to drink
open up a little bit and find out who you are
just another idiot who’s praying to the stars
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