Bob Dylan smacked you films gary landon mills
jonny lee miller, dreams, salt lake city, list of people by name, palestine, derek, gary landon mills, oliver stone, turkey, mos def, ron gabriel, This is also from 2000. Here's another off-kilter story About a sick little bastard named Maury Povitch, films Asked me for my autograph and I films said, "Hell no, bitch!" You no-talent TV tabloid Jerry Springer ringer I break your thumb and two of films your fingers Now you make the devil sign at all times with splints on Kid you need to go hide out just like Thomas Pynchon I mean lay low, You're way low for TV let alone basketball Drag your midget ass and cheap suits to a David Lynch casting call Talking backwards.... Need to quit, you're washed up, go in a Deicide pit and get moshed up; kid you're old ! Go get a job selling Viagra like Bob Dole Fuck your talk show, me and a pissed-off, upstaged Geraldo are going to roll Up on your stage, on BMX bikes under klieg lights fuck using the hand brakes, We pop wheelies on your face, I'm taking over, hit the road, "Tonight's episode: short, Semitic, cheap-suit-wearing, trailer-trash-exploiting, prosthetic-chin-cleft-having, wig-flaunting , Rikki-Lake-wanting-to-be schmucks, and the tire irons they get impaled on..."
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Bob Dylan smacked you gary landon mills up for stealing his nasal whiney style... Zack de la Phoney, you can snack on my sac de la cojones He's telling me to phone his moms cus she's lonely I ain't gary landon mills got time to fuck gary landon mills your mother She's gotta stand in line, and take a number See, my schedule is kind of tight this summer Whatever A&R man signed you made a blunder He must wonder if it was worth the blow job I ain't fooled by your snow job If it wasn't for dog pornos, you wouldn't have no job whatsoever You're in leather you're getting schnauzers Kid, you're going lower than Bowzer STALKING MAURY POVITCH OK, here's the world's first rap IN SEVEN. The shaker is a mason jar full of coffee beans. There's toy flutes in the mix, played backwards. The lyrics are this weird Oedipal drama featuring Maury, his wife Connie, and myself. This is-- regrettably-- the only real 'storytelling' rhyme on this album.
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