2 Skinnee J's
Brew Ha Ha! lyrics
TGIF cause the stress ends soon, ha ha
Your friends on your couch your discs rockin tunes, ha ha
As you stand with your band in a room that is strewn, ha ha
With Seuss juice, fruit loops, and old Yoo-Hoo’s, ha ha
Rounds of high fives and cries of “yea dude”, ha ha
Smokin cigarettes and sippin witches’ brew, ha ha
It’s kid tested, mom approved, ha ha
To make your jimmy swagger like the duke, ha ha
Dressed in your best vest for club lagoon, ha ha
And the teeny bikinis with the real pontoons, ha ha
You’re out the door and down the avenue, ha ha
The shit’s getting I'll like refute
Enter the strobe light, exit harvest moon, ha ha
Throngs of Paragons with your old platoon, ha ha
They bet you to step to the one that’s cute, ha ha
As she stand with a man hope he’s chicken like Purdue, ha ha
If belligerence were affluent you’d be tycoon, ha ha
Go to overthrow the prince and start a coo, ha ha
But he’s gone nuts like cashew he must be introduced, ha ha
To your best friend, your best man, and new right shoe, ha ha
Groups execute like John Wilkes Booth, ha ha
Control my chokehold four blows cause broken tooth, ha ha
Fists bring the pain, rain like monsoon, ha ha
Split the scene before you get the boot, ha ha
You’re the kind of guy who thinks that life is simply passin ya
The last gas is graspin ya, and the last laugh gets laughed at ya,
Is it comin true, what your friend said in the last seats in back of ya
No they’re wrong, like the way George Bush spoke so amateur,
Assess the damages, and cast all those tags the bullies ran at ya,
You’re just disenchanted with Nasdaq like the cat back in Atlanta was
You steal of the wheel the deal with the deck they handed ya
With your outcast you’re out last as old fears have handed ya
And so we have ya, on your way of having your first crack at Pamela,
She’ll become the better half of ya,
Just hope the rest does not pass without somebody slappin ya
Now you cruise like two groups who protects the excuse
Go out half kinds with twice the attitude
It pulls lactic sick wanna kick like kung-fu,
Watched too much Bruce Lee, Jet Li, and John Woo, limbo!
How low will you stoop as the sickness hold pitfall
And it and spreads like the flu,
Run with the wolf pack attack the chicken coop,
Taxing on the next kid, “who you running to?”
Yes, but I am turning, his ass black and blue
Pounce and bounce him into ICU,
I’m a traitor and taxi at home like pigeons do,
Smile as you greet the morning dew
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