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Music
Song Credits
- Beats, Rhymes & Cuts: Pot-C
- Bass Guitar: Thomas Lyons aka C-Man
Song Lyrics
I showed up with a jet pack - smoke show and lasers - Lit up a Chonger of 200 papers
Landed on a monster truck made of skateboards - bottlerockets shot from my fists to your face for
A whole five minutes of costume changes - Robocop - Darth Vader - Batman and Optimus
Prime - the whole time I drank a box of wine - transformed it into a mic then rhymed
I’m Pot-C and the crowd went wild - on infinite all my shit’s dialed
Piled up - 20 high are stacks of Yugos - that form my stage and the go go cage
Filled with dancer’s on minimum wage - my opening act of Plant and Page
I rant and rave to a symphony orchestra - I’m not done til I stick a fork in ya
Best to forfeit tha poor shit in orbit - you thought was amazing when I start blazing
Saddles with paddles for Pong on your lawn - that are solid concrete and fifty feet long
On and on like Sisters With Voices - I’m not just the raddest - I’m also the choicest
Hoist this human trophy like Stanley’s - cup filled up with whisky and brandy
And the ingredients - the herbs and spices - way past eleven on all devices
Nice on the mic - escort the elderly - over expressways and off their balconies
Helpin these folks connect with that’s all - a be a buh be a buh be and that stall
Might help the reference - library sections - come back to life when we’re disconnected
Yep this train of thought’s off the rails - no engineer - no wind in the sails
Willows squeeze - rust and then seize - fart in a bottle of your Febreeze
These are the voyages - toy with this formula - this Warner brother is formally warnin’ ya
A warmed up world makes surfin an option - to get to work, the mall or adoption
Parenting planning offices - off of this - obelisk - offer Frisk to an optometrist
Awful shit all I get from it is twisted - don’t sweat Keith, Kool or the Apple
Bean sprout powered almost live in Seattle - in the john my keister can win any battle
That’ll curb critics my spit is acidic - I’m the Takata airbag in your Civic
Help help me Honda - Mary Jane I’m fonda - I’ll book you a night in Hotel Rwanda
I even googled it and decided to go on the - record that poor taste can’t stop the bombs from
Leavin’ my mouth - ain’t no filter stoppin this - prank call I’m makin straight to Panagopoulos
Pizza in PoCo from a foreign metropolis - dot J P after the Zeopolis
Love it or leave it - everybody’s gonna rock a fist - maybe not buzz but for sure there’s Oscar piss
Near this trash can I’m standing on top of kids - a buck 42 dose of Maximum Awesomeness