Easy Rider

歌詞

[Produced By: Party Supplies] [Verse 1] Praise the lord, I was born to drive boat Feeling like Slash in front of the chapel I'm leaned back with the Les Paul Shit I smoke is like cholesterol Spilled dressin' on the vest at the festival The best of all, had a midget Puerto Rican at my beck and call Best believe that there was neck involved Fucked around and almost wrecked the Saab Uh, we took acid for ten days straight up in the mountains Started running with the stallions Playing frisbee in the West Indies, did the tango with my kidneys Eyes open, now I know just who my kids need Rockin' very loose pants, yeah Rockin' very loose pants, yeah Bury a million in the sand, by the clock tower Before I die, take a hot shower [Hook 4x] Ride the Harley into the sunset [Verse 2] By chance I seen her in the lobby of the Ritz With her man, the one that swings a hockey stick I was wearing all white, and my hair was looking precious Shit, I might cop a chest and a dresser A little machine to make espresso I heard your bitch still wears Ecko Hide drugs behind the box of De Cecco Live from the Expo, it's me I wear the wolf in the winter, steer the coupe from the center Who gives a fuck, I'm a sinner I had dreams of fuckin' Keri Hilson in my Duncans Woke up naked at the Hilton with a bitch that look like Seal's cousin Bite the eel by the dozen (Got to take it for the team) Bite the eel by the dozen [Verse 3] Pump the bass in the trunk, shit rattled like a baby hand Except this toy cost 80 grand And I'm crazy tan, from all the places that I've been Just from writing words with a pen Tell the pilot "Land the plane," on Roosevelt and Main Put a jacuzzi on the seven train And lay John Coltrane play with that cocaine face I know your crabs from that Old Bay taste The brass band was seven pieces, my bitch's name is Peaches We got twin Mac elevens with the features Shit you barely got sneaker money So much dick in their mouths, that's why these motherfuckers speaking funny You need to speak clearer dear, cause I can't hear ya (I can't hear ya) You need to speak clearer dear, cause I can't hear ya [Verse 4] The Magic Johnson of the game These lames don't want to play with me Smile on your face, but I really know you hatin' me I know you mad, cause I'm sick, and it's plain to see, it's me [Hook 6x] [Guitar Outro: Curt Chambers]