I-Am-Mc-Lovin <Weadick_08>

Fresh Prince of Bl-Air5/5/07
 
In West Philadelfia born and raised
On the playground where I spent most of my days
Chilling out, maxing, relaxing all cool
And all shooting some b-ball outside of the school
When a couple of guys said "we're up in no good"
Started making trouble in my neighbourhood
I got in one little fight and my mom got scared
And said "you're moving with your aunt and uncle in Bel-Air"

I whistled for a cab and when it came near the
Licensplate said "Fresh" and had a dice in the mirror
If anything I could say that this cab was rare
But I thought now forget it, yo home to Bel-Air

I pulled up to a house about seven or eight
And I yelled to the cabby "Yo, home smell you later"
Looked at my kingdom I was finally there
To settle my throne as the prince of Bel-Air
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Podge and Roge one liners3/4/07
 
I'm as sick as a small hospital
I'm so hungry I'd eat a small child
She had a face on her like a well slapped a*se
Your' re as welcome as a f*rt in a spacesuit
My mouth's as dry as a nun' s cr@ck
He has rubber-lined pockets so he can steal soup
He thinks manual labour is a Spanish musician
As funny as a burning orphanage
He's so camp, he shites tent pegs
I'm as sick as a plane to Lourdes
I feel like a boiled sh1te (hung-over)
(when leaving) I'm off like a debs dress
She had a face on her that would drive rats from a barn
As busy as the Dalkey dole office
Sweatin' like a paedophile in a Barney suit
As tight as a nun's knickers
I'm so horny I'd get up on the crack of dawn
I'd crawl a million miles across broken glass to kiss the exhaust of
the van that took her dirty knickers to the laundry.
Up and down like a whore's knickers
No show pony but would do for a ride around the house
Did your mother find out who your father is yet?
What would ye expect from a pig but a grunt
I left her with a face like a painter' s radio
A Mickey the size of a double-value can of Right Guard!!
Jays us, she could breastfeed a cr� che
As fit as a butcher's dog
She ' s got more chins than a Chinese phone book
Not even the tide would take her out
Mother Teresa wouldn' t 't kiss her
Daz wouldn't shift her
Des Kelly wouldn't lay her
A sniper wouldn't take her out
Jays us, ya wouldn't ride her into battle
If I'd a bag of bruised willies I wouldn't give her one
She has a face on her like a bulldog that's just licked p*ss off a nettle
She wouldn't get a kick in a stampede
She had a f@nny like a badly packed kebab
If I'd a garden full of Mickey' s I wouldn't let her look over the wall
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