lunes, 25 de diciembre de 2017

Fun Lovin' Criminals. You Got a Problem

3, 2, 1, I'm that son of a gun, but one who has
the fun by the kilo and the ton. Like Marv
Albert but worse, I got the curse, got
per with the nurse in the maternity
ward. That's right, I'm nuts, ask Fisty Cuts. I
got outpatient status at the Brooklyn Zoo.
Doobie doobie doo, we like the crew that
runs up in the club wearin' alligator shoes.
When I get the blues I get it really bad, ask
Kronos for promos, Feliz Navidad. Johnny
Black got my back, baby, happy or sad. If I
fall out of your favor, don' get mad.

My head feels like old vinyl, and like Lionel,
I'm idle. Secretly stalking the title, stealin'
scenes by ways and means. And thats why
marines got M-16's I think I love her, but
she's affected, bullshit detected. Wonder
why she got neglected, I legged it, turned up
here, I'll have a beer and a joke about that
Guenevere. Lord I been knowin' there'd be
days like these, but please don't hit me with
the quick release, and don't rat me out to
Edwin Meese, 'cause I been around the
world and the seven seas.

If the heat don't get me then the drugs sure
will, stirrin' scotch and soda's with a twenty
dollar bill. My mamma always told me
never drink on pills, roll down the window
'cause I'm feelin' kinda ill.