About This Track
"Two Feet in the Layered Cake" is a track by Busdriver, from the album Thumbs , released 6th November 2015. Full lyrics are available below.
About the Artist
Lyrics
Yeah. Oh, shit, my thigh hurts. Yeah. Party time Behold, the carnival cargo of influenza As about trigonometry, the more colonies of issue splendor I'll turn this party into a caprion happening with my Wagging tongue as a single flapping wing I keep crouch-dropping sexist weight in a plasma pool. And the crub of drug use is to get sacked to school Check out this pic - it's me getting a baby bamboo swaddled. That's hit the purple the homie made in the shampoo bottle I make friends aggressively with a lot of scpoops of ramble sprinkles. My posse's got moxie like Rocky and Bullwinkle. Beer and hand in pockеt a more heart and throat A disciplined musician, I squeezе the line from notes. My homies gave me the costume; they're all supposed to be firemen I guess they shouldn't be popping zannies like multivitamins. With nipples in the jet pack, let's patry to a brain dead A patry at least until you're pregnant We can party till you're pregnant We can party till you're pregnant We're gonna party till you're pregnant I need you patry with me till you're pregnant We're two feet in the layered cake (... with me ... with me) We're two feet in the layered cake .... Yeah Sip a beer for the disappeared Quentin ... Cause the compost and the rich only poor priveige We talk about the black men as a concept and how Miss Pac Man is just Pac Man crossdressed Meet the homie Terrence he's an ex-con used to spearhead the man-on-man gang rapes Time to be told who we can or can't... Count out, I can't drive pow wow at this clan baker My goal tonight is to make it insensitive preteens Head full of webisodes of copmetitive e-teen We reenact streams for the mighty bush to build a test of rack but hand-attached Of a Nike swoosh from that feisty douche wearing a shine suit Given his comments and transcripts of backstory, a timely boost man You got started by meter maids when you grew your reefer. I blew speakers got the teacher's aid to smooch my sphincter But she's possessed the DNA of the future leader Just show me TNA fuck your student visa On a puke-flavored Saturday And shoot from the roots of the jukes of hazard pain While you're in front of girls getting them to blow ... breathalyzer Like drunk hoes as an element of hip hop Like drunk hoes as an element of hip hop Drunk drunk hoes as an element of hip hop It's almost true; that's why I'm holding my baloney steak. I came to the show jam preprogrammed to procreate With nipples in the jet pack, let's patry to a brain dead A patry at least until you're pregnant We can party till you're pregnant We can party till you're pregnant We're gonna party till you're pregnant I need you to patry with me till you're pregnant [Kool A.D] Oh shit what the fuck is going on? She's bucknacked with a lion's jersey thrown on How many rooms has this house got? How many shrooms and foul pots is little .... I mean bloom to a Faustion I'm the second-best rapper after James Faustion Mommy want to hitch and make bambinos He said i'm like a half white Childish Gambino Writting screenplays sipping pino Where my lations part of my gringo Black and Nemo James Harden part of my lingo But please know I go hard for my people Fly far like an eagle into the sea Like Stive Miller, but iller, your boy a killer, yo Scribble little pics for a bill or salt. Nibble on her tits till she sings like a Figaro Then she goes in the same direction that the zipper go That's down Just another class clown That's brown, Stop, hey, what's that sound? Listen when the hook come back in Yeah, that's now. Wait, wait, wait, i think um Wait yeah now Thath's now Pregnant We can party till you're pregnant We can party till you're pregnant We're gonna party till you're pregnant I need you patry with me till you're pregnant We're two feet in the layered cake. ... (... with me ... with me) We're two feet in the layered cake .... (... with me ... with me)
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