Sixavelli (feat. Lunar C)

I'm at the Kwik-E-Mart, to find where the Simpson's are

I got money to give to Bart cause he ticked me shard

Yo, someone tell me where the strippers are

I get it popping like throwing ninja stars in a titty bar

It might be a bit bizarre

But I'm at my best friends funeral

I'm crying, but my dick is hard

My mate showed me his minibar

I couldn't stop asking the cunt

Where the fucking midgets are

Last week I bought a Nixon mask

Stole Bill Clinton's car

And drove it into Monica Lewinsky's spa

My girlfriends a Gypsy with a job to do

I'll sign your CD's, she'll rob your shoes and your wallet, too

Drive by in a Commodore

Ride right to the bottle shop

Rock tie die, no knife fights

I'm a white guy with a tomahawk

Pause and ask the owner if he knows

The fucking soccer score

If our teams losing then we're fucking up his shop some more

I'm the kid your parents like to hate

And I'm the kid that girlies like to taste

Yes, I'm the kid that cuts all the lines and shows up late

Everything you got, yeah, I got it by mistake

I think from all the benders I've rocked and all the ecstasy popped

I suffer memory loss which means I don't remember a lot

I like machetes because it's the weapon I've got

Use it to start connecting the dots and your freckles and spots

Even when I'm not right, I'll never do be wrong

I'm levels beyond, on a level that you won't ever be on

I'll take a photo of how Jesus died and I'll text it to God

Message across

I got a question for God

If we got the First Testament wrong

Tell us where we got the second one from

Yo, from this day I never will flop

You want proof

I'll stab the end of my cock with this adrenaline shot

Hey, yo, my cock is a Cyclops

Got Nikes on and they're high tops

Meet you then tell you that your girl got a nice box

Everything I do in life is quite wrong

Eat an apple a day

So I stole ya fuckin iPod

I'm the kid your parents like to hate

And I'm the kid that girlies like to taste

Yes, I'm the kid that cuts all the lines and shows up late

Everything you got, yeah, I got it by mistake

I'm the kid your parents like to hate

And I'm the kid that girlies like to taste

Yes, I'm the kid that cuts all the lines and shows up late

Everything you got, yeah, I got it by mistake

Yeah, I'm getting it in, when I get in the ring

It's a right, left to the chin

I side step then I swing

Got two bisexual identical twins in my ride

Dressed up as gimps on a wild ketamine binge

Getting more head than forceps

You get t-bagged for sleeping

I let my balls rest on ya forehead

If ya wondering why I haven't said pause yet

And presuming I'm talkin about a dude

Then you're bent

Speaking at the court, here and naked

With my balls shaved

That's what I call a bald statement

Whole world on my shoulders

Didn't think that I could balance it

But it's lighter than you think

Like Michael Jackson's kids

You don't know where the fuck you been

From Bradford to Melbourne, we run this thing

Took your chick to go fuck

But the slut just sucked my dick till she bust a lip

Fuck what I said before

I ain't got no money, bitch

Girls call me an asshole 'cause

I'm tight as fuck and full of shit

I'm the kid your parents like to hate

And I'm the kid that girlies like to taste

Yes, I'm the kid that cuts all the lines and shows up late

Everything you got, yeah, I got it by mistake

I'm the kid your parents like to hate

And I'm the kid that girlies like to taste

Yes, I'm the kid that cuts all the lines and shows up late

Everything you got, yeah, I got it by mistake