lirik lagu bussin’ – cyanide and silicone
[verse 1: dubby]
ride my scooter and i crash into walls
shove a nerd into a locker and i’m tearing up the halls
after gym class, holler at a b*tch with a big ass
give me no sass if you’re coming my way
better save that sh*t for another rainy day
and my head hurts cause i got a mad headache
so i take a tylenol pm then i’m straight
but if i take too much then my brain gets baked
oh sh*t, wash my mouth out with soap
i don’t really care and i don’t want to cope
i’m taggin’ in and taggin’ out with the tracklist
i’ve been been down since the birth of the whackness
rolling hard, rolling heavy with a chevy
and a sawed off shotty and a bl**dy machete
swing chop, chop, chop, swing chop
downtown with a backflip when you drop
[hook: brin x2]
nah, it ain’t nuffin
tards in thе clique, and imma push your b*ttons
nah, it ain’t nuffin
guns in the back, dale bouta gеt bussin’
[verse 2: brin]
yes, i’m bossing, i’m turning and tossing
standing in the window talking to my grandpa in my f*cking boxers
i’m putting all my books in my locker
study betty crocker recipes, on their knees, play soccer bopper
i’m rolling hard
step your b*tch ass up to an older tard
dale’s in the kitchen making m*ffins with a fold of cards
taking nothing from the b*tches, joey’s colon holding fards
leave your cousin in the ditches, kitchen full of molded parts
c&s we do business, the business is the best
slapping up a teacher for making me take a flipping test
dale has to nest, so i’m giving his ass some rest
and feeling goated, i got several these b*tches to show their chest
nowadays i’m thankful that i got a degree
to plant my ivy seeds and grow some leaves of three for all my b’s
tea and crumpets are for me, stay out of my pantry
brian needs money so the tards can go camping
[hook: brin x2]
nah, it ain’t nuffin
tards in the clique, and imma push your b*ttons
nah, it ain’t nuffin
guns in the back, dale bouta get bussin’
[verse 3: dubby]
2 turntables and a microphone
but i sold them both so i could leave home
but i still got nothing and nothing is free
except for the sh*t that’s in my backseat
that i stole last week from the dude that i punched in the cheek
knocked out every single one of his t**th
it a shame that we still got beef
so i fried that sh*t up with green tea
i keep dead pets inside of a shoe box
i lay ’em right next to my favorite tube socks
i like 2pac and i’m hard as a mother f*cker
one day i’ll become just another trucker
but for now i’m having all the fun
and i’m playing baseball with your head and i hit a home run
can’t speak cause i don’t speak softly
back up off me, your sh*t get’s costly
[hook: brin x2]
nah, it ain’t nuffin
tards in the clique, and imma push your b*ttons
nah, it ain’t nuffin
guns in the back, dale bouta get bussin’
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