Nutsymtom - 311

The cold funk has you sunk

Feel the mids pump

Blessed are those who erupt when we turn up Right now we corrupt

Cons the shades we don in the neon night

We’re gonna feed on the mikes and blast through a pipe

I gotta cool capability to toast and ill

Yo, my daddy told me, «Hey, son, you must act chill»

Alien rough, my galaxy is tough

Here comes the bang of a hip-hop thang that we bring and swing

Men from Mars ain’t ever gonna hang

With dope Buddhas, come to the stage, we are attackin'

Space assassin, naked, live, and never slackin'

Come a day, on the way, enter one S. A

Amplified form, another world far away

I got the pang of a gang, and I come from the Southside

Here’s the thang that I bring, and I promise to come live

While the masses passes upon their fucking asses

And if you don’t see, get glasses

That is a shot out to the words of Curt Grubb

The mother fucker is no scrub, I said the man is the kind

With the one that I call Brine Shrimp

We never ever do skip, I limp on a stage in a huff

Like magic dragon, I puff on the stuff of a Humboldt cone

Then I’m stoned, watch out

Smoke the weed that come from Northern California

Don’t do no cocaine that come from Colombia

That the thing that mash up your nature

Mash up your body, and mash up your culture

Take a tip from the flipped script of Daddy Freddy

I give complete props to the one that rocks steady

With dexterity and goes on, and on, and on

And turn out the dope shit like the one that’s called «Pawn Shop»

Press, yes, it’s on, what’s up

P-Nut, change it up

One time from your mind, watch out