Testo Geronimo - Prof
Testo della canzone Geronimo (Prof), tratta dall'album Powderhorn Suites
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
You ever caught a body, you know how I feel
Fucked up, yet I'm shining, though
Time to tell them adios
Jumping out, Geronimo
Nobody see no sign of them
Smoking sherman, mass murder in the middle of your sermon
Swerving, flirt in Suburbans, drinking bourbon
(Okay) curtains (uh)
You can't see me, you should call missing persons
I'm drunk at the Perkins
Liquid encouragement got me focused
I beat your whole team without a relay in the track meet
(Son of a gun) pay attention now
You McDonald's All-American, and I ain't talking 'bout an athlete
(Son of a gun)
I got a boy counting foreign money for me
Plus a couple turtles to peel oranges when I'm horny
Massages in the morning, first class is now boarding
I'm breaking out of orbit, ooh, Lordy, ooh, Lordy!
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
You ever caught a body, you know how I feel
Fucked up yet, I'm shining, though
Time to tell them adios
Jumping out, Geronimo
Nobody see no sign of them
What had happened was I was buzzed in the black Maxima
The passenger, snapping neck looking back at us
More asses to tap a capita
That's a fact that I can fax to ya
Backing up the truck, damn, Pamela!
So check it, I want to get freaky and fuck you this weekend
I'd love to, so call me, I trust you
Allow me to come through and cook you some fondue
Your dresses could undo, I swear, God, I love you
And my orgies, they keep on getting better
Like 9-11, we all came together
Two birds of a feather all flock together
Like I said before, I'm getting bigger, getting better
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
You ever caught a body, you know how I feel
Fucked up, yet I'm shining, though
Time to tell them adios
Jumping out, Geronimo
Nobody see no sign of them
Gimme a reason to ball, just like I'm Steven Seagal
This evening take a beating 'front of your moms, you're bleeding
Please believe I'm speeding keys in the car, I'm leaving
Cleanly eating Diane's Keaton tomorrow, believe me
More haters, more haters, more haters, more haters, hey!
More haters, more haters, more haters, more haters, hey!
More haters, more haters, more haters, more haters, hey!
More paper, more paper, more paper
Credits
Writer(s): Jacob Lukas Anderson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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