Yo', Bloodhound Gang and Rob Van Winkle together on this track
Stop as we drop this bomb
Blow up this place like another Vietnam
Heavy like a Tyson blow to the dome
Back up, son, give me room, give me room
To set it off like this, don't give it up
I'm all up in you 'til you just can't get enough
Real hard to the bone, you want more?
I sneak up on you like a sniper at your back door
Phat flavor for your brain, you know the time
So check the wrath it's for real 'cause I'm gonna get mine
Roll up on you like Eastwood
Blowin' up fifteens as I'm ridin' through your neighborhood
I spreads butter like Parkay
Real smooth with the flow and even when I parlay
Do what you feel and check the skill
I'm in your grill peep this I got the raw deal
In your Jeep Cherokee or Land Cruiser
When you're rollin' through the hood you want use a
Track like this all up in your eardrum
So check the E.Q. and let them speakers hum
And gets crazy like Prozac
Hype enough to start a party and illy as a heart attack
Round one, round two, knock out
Straight to your head like my round never lights out
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee-a
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee-a
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee-a
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee-a
Jimmy, Jimmy y'all, Jimmy, damn, Jimmy, yeah
Gimme the mic, Rob, so I can take it away
Got more lines than the welfare office
Are you upset you'll never get to be as clever as this?
Spreadin' quicker than your mom have a feel but don't cop it
Yeah, I stole your beat, but that's 'cause you dropped it
Crude as oil unrefined but slick
I'm gonna get you from behind like a gay convict
'Cause my name ain't Quasimodo but I still got a hunch
That like the Jim Jones cult I'll take you out with one punch
You're Spiro Agnew, and I'm the Dick you answer to
You're sweatin' like a watermelon at a Baptist barbecue
Sneakin' up like celery, yeah, I'm stalkin'
I squeak like Stephen Hawkings, yeah, but I'm walkin'
Nose to ground, so this Bloodhound will sniff and follow it
I hope you choke on your pride when I make you swallow it
Screamin' like a Mimi when you see me comin' near you
Like a Kenny Loggins' record no one's ever gonna hear you
Like a game of Hide and Seek it's all over if I see you
'Cause you're yellower than tinkle and you'll be runnin' like diarrhea
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee-a
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee-a
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee-a
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee-a
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee-a
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee-a
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee-a
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee
Tah-rah, tah-rah, tah-rah, boom-dee-a
