(Intro):
Creep, creep, I`m on the creep
The creep for the kind bud
O.C. late night, rolling in the v-dub
Sick of scraping resin so I`m looking for a sack
All I learn, I`ll head for burn
BSO`s got my back
Right on, right on brother, blaze on
You better rip that shit, rip it
It`s that 1605 shit, real hunnington beats
Backyard fucking, garage style
(Chorus):
Bump, bump, bump
That`s the sound of the fifteens while they`re hitting in my trunk
Said bump, bump, bump
We`re the Kottonmouth Kings and we don`t give a fuck
(Verse) Saint Dog:
Well I`m that kid that the bitches talk about
Saint`s what they shout, you got all the clout
A day in the life of a Kottonmouth King, 1605 (fool pass me the thing)
Now the stereo is off, I sway, push play
You hear humble gods from a mile away
All the heads are bobbing because the base is bumping
D-Loc is mumbling, (I got a little something)
Well he passed me a hornet and I took a sip
Sparked up a bowl and I took a rip, trip
Came to halt at an intersection
Turned up the music at my discretion
D-Loc in the back said what do I see
A jeep full of freaks just staring at me
D-Loc was right, they were in a range rover
Looked over my shoulder, I pulled them all over
They got out the car and stepped to my side
I said, hello ladies let`s take a ride
I`m Saint Dog, that`s D-Loc the man
Daddy X is the one that`s driving the van
So climb on in and don`t be shy
We`re gonna close the doors and let the games be fly
Once again I said it, my name`s ST
It`s just another day of a P-T-B
Come on, come on
(Chorus)x2
Saint Dog putting it down for suburban pride
(Verse) Saint Dog:
I was living my life on a nine to five
Up early in the morning trying to survive
Chump change, it`s a shame, with no education
No inspiration, no destination,
But now my occupation is to do what I like
Keep the crowd moving and rock the mic
Because if I don`t rock it, then another sucker will
And if you don`t jock it, then I can`t pay the bills
Trick Daddy X threw me out on stage
Said Saint, represent for the underage
Same damn year, my face is up and raised
Got that ring in my nose labeled sixteen gauge
D-Loc:
No Saint dog, I hunt ducks with a twelve gauge
And when I`m on the stage, yes I get get real blazed
Get me on the court my skills will put you in a maze
T-T-T-twicking a twine all day
Come on, come on
(Chorus)x3
D-Loc`s on the mic, rip rip shit up
(Verse) D-Loc:
It`s the unpolitical, psychoanalytical,
Undefeated Champ that will stick you fool
My style is crazy, not wooka wakka lazy
If you chill with me I`ll be sure to (blaze thee)
Plant you in the ground, let you drift like a daisy
That shit`s in my system makes my life kind of hazy
My momma, my poppa, I think I should tell them
The J gots my head, and fucked up my cerebellum
It`s about time to compute your math
Because my beats keep bumping like a seismograph
See I`ve tripped before, but never like this
Straight to my mind, put my brain in a bliss
I wont fake the funk, when I`m smoking on a skunk
That forty bowl evil got my peacock drunk
And like Micky Mantle, I can switch my stance
I`m a supercharged baller that`s electrically enhanced
My flows are silky soft, like I`m writing them in lotion
And I`m a lyricist, that`s poetry in motion
To each town, to each house, I cause mass commmotion
?????? take it all for my potion
Farewell to all and to all goodnight
I`m leaving these ??? out all night
Wait wait wait you said ??? that shit will suck you up
Get off the ??? and rock the bump
Come on
(Chorus)x1
Biotch!
