4th of July - Jeremy Cross, Nacho Picasso

Nickle 4−5, I squeze it till the pearl jam

Kick rocks bitch, quick to tell a girl scram

Mayor West, Seattle birth the first batman

Nacho Picasso, the tat in the hat man

Hi-ya, got that tatted on my backhand

The bad man said I rang from the badland

I’m cute, she gorgeous

Blood on the portraits

I’m rude plus morbid

She chose like I’m orbit

I came on her vortex

And threw her out the fortress

Get out my heart-shaped box

My heart stays locked

Your heart says stop

Every time you kiss your spouse, that tard tastes cock

Your posse on broadway, your hard bass rock

Another day, another VUCSA, hard case caught

Where the dope boys go, when they die?

We don’t go to heaven, we live so fly

Some get low, but we get high

Sparking fireworks like the 4th of July

Nacho, hm

I hear them using Cobain in vain

You ain’t grew up in the rain

So you prolly ain’t the same

Wouldn’t have a thing in common

If you’d blew your brains

The way they steal from Jimi

Man these fools should be ashamed

Got me feeling like Joe

Cause I’m fin to shoot my dame

We the reason Bruce Lee learnt to kick it like Liu Kang

Cause he grew up in the valley

And the valley never changed

My palace is in flames and my Alice is in chains

My chain bar with diamonds, my fingers full of rings

My city’s full of lames, then it seems you never came

Steve Largent, work the hard, I beg your pardon

Just threw another corpse in my Soundgarden

And Sir iMix-A-Lot, makes it soft or harden

You can ask Quincy Jones, where the fuck he started