Everybody's got opinions
On the way you're living
But see they can't fill your shoes
Life is made of half illusion (illusion)
Forty percent confusion (confusion)
Whatever's left I'm using to keep myself from losing, yea
You don't know what I've been through (ooh)
Hell I might go through you (ghetto boy that, won't eat, tonight)
Uh-oh, oh no-oh (that little boy just wanna eat tonight)
Hey hey (he scuffles with her booty and her face) hey hey
And mm-mm (mom I'm seekin' that sir tea and some soup yea)
All in all it's all in my headYou know it's that high guy, from East PI
Spittin' the realness of reality, you mad at me
Boi how you gonna handle me?
You want me to lolligag and talk that bullshit?
I refuse to play so I'm gon' speak that Southern good shit
That harder than yo' hood shit, lil' shit
That make y'all niggas think about the trigger
Before you pull it, on liquor stores and banks
Them folks got more than enough bullets to put that ass
Off in the slang, don't claim no gang, we the niggas
That did that "Ain't No Thang But a Chicken Wang"
But still though, how you gonna play a nigga like dildo
We OutKast til it's over, barbeque and never mildo
For real bro"In tonight's news, 20th century technology:
Has the computer age, scientists, and doctors gone too far?
Einstein or Frankenstein?
Dr Scholl's, or Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde?
Are we digging into new ground
Or digging our own graves? Story at 11"Valley girls are horny tonight (synthesizer)
Fuzzy logic, their pubic virginity (synthesizer)
Ooh ooh ooh (synthesizer)
Ooh ooh ooh (synthesizer)Conceived under the influence of toxic wasted doctors
Computer buggin' debuggin' device-a and vice versa
And various viruses
Performing with laser light precision and verbal incision
For a linguistic ballistic lobotomy
Mind-fuckin' you, a psycho-sodomy
Of the medula oblongata
Accept your mind down your spine and out your behind
Fuck youSynthesizer, microwave me
Give me a drug so I can make seven babies
Pump my breasts up, can you suck the fat up
Please make my life appear
Like ain't no such thing as bad luck
My, nose ain't right
Like I need a new one
Just take your pick, a yellow red
A black or a blue one
Virtual reality, virtual, bullshit!
Synthesizer preachers can reach you up in the pulpit
Who a bitch?
Give me my gat so I can smoke this nigga
Tell his mamma not to cry
Because they can clone him quicker
Than it took his daddy to make him
Niggas bitin' verbatim
Thought provokin' records radio never played dem
Instant, quick grits, new, improved
Hurry hurry, rush rush, world on the move
Marijuana illegal but cigarettes cool
I might look! Kinda funny but I ain't no fool
Now if you wanna synthesize I emp-athize
Now if you wanna synthesize I emp-athize
But if you synthesize I will understand
Your synthesizer manGhetto boy horny tonight
Scsi with a booty in a cage
Problem sinkin down and stretchin out
So sleepy, playing safe in cyberspace (synthesizer)
Cybersexy Wendy (synthesizer)
Web walkin' in the nude
Digital good time, digital good time
Said she'd lap dance on your laptop
While your laptop's in your lap
Digital good time, digital good time
Cybersexy Wendy
Web walkin' in the nude
Digital good time, digital good time
Said she'd tap dance on your laptop
While your laptop's in your lap
Digital good time, digital good time
Digital good time, digital good time
Cybersexy Wendy
Web walkin' in the nude
Digital good time, digital good time
Fuzzy logic, it's groovyWassup, man?
Wassup player, wassup, wassup? What'chu need? What'chu need?
Shit, trying to smoke good like you
Shit, I ain't smoking good, I'm just out here trying to pay these bills, my nigga
What it look like for the Oskie-Wowskie?
Shit, for you? Cause you my nigga, shit, 65
65?
Yup, yeah
You don' charged me 50 the other day
It's some of that goddamn LA, some of that west coast
So it must've had a fifteen-dollar plane ticket added on to the motherfucker
Aye, shit, aye, I ain't the one who put the tag on it, my nigga
I just sell to you just like I get it know what I'm saying?
Stem seeds and everything, huh?
Shit, you know how it go, playa
Well, I'mma tell it like this, I can't even smoke like that so you can go on and keep that
Well shit, I holla at you later then
I'll holler at you too then nigga, don't holler at me no more
Shit, holla at you
Bye, nigga
Songwriters
GEORGE CLINTON, ANDRE BENJAMIN, ANTWAN PATTONPublished by
Lyrics © Peermusic Publishing, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.