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On plane ridesOn train ridesOn bus ridesYou need to shut your kids the fuck up! (Word up)Tryin' to get some writin' done on this mothafucker (I hate it)Haha...check it outPerhaps when I have one of my own, I'll sing a new tuneBut this song is called "Disasters", its about your two year oldI sing for a living in funeral homes, I don't take requestsDiss my sense of fashion all you want, I hate the way you dressHow do you expect someone to take you seriouslyWhen its obvious the god you trust is hateful and inferior to me?"I'm kidding"; Really folks, who asked us to be modest?Thinking when you hear these jokes, you laugh just to feel smarterWomen are cannon-fodder for the father of their bratty little disastersI brought it back a little bit, you see that?Give you a recap, before I recall it and recut itRelax and read more on every subjectBeat back the natural urges that have surgeons attack fat personsScalpels swervin' till the cellulite splattered on curtainsCertain you've heard of me by now, that's why you're listeningAs I waste the most inopportune time to diss some things (like children)If you have one: cool!But don't use kiddies as an excuse to make terrible music please.Letras de cancionesI've got a mouth to feed too, and it lives on my faceIn a house that's see-through and it's your kid's mom's placeBaby mamma drama blah blah blahI've got a problem but I'm not sitting on top of a barbarian chairWith Rastafarian hairI fear no man with a hand full of scissorsCause I just cut him short in the shape of an animal less vicious, dig itI'm more dapper than Dan, and sadly? You're more stupid like a van full of Pakistans at a Klan rallyWhere's my daddy? Forget what the court of law saysI cut my losses, I'm asking you who the fuck YOURS is!If I wanted to pick you up with a lineIt'd have a fish hook on the end of it and I'd stick it in your eyeFuckin' cry, babyWipe your eye, babyI may have busted off a couple of times inside but that ain't my...baby!Kickin' unoriginal flavors, dumb ishLike Jay-Z trying to impress chip fool with a tongue twistI diggity-done this, I diggity-done thatI kiggity-kept the style in my arsenal thinking it will come backNow run that shit like wild potato chipsThrow your hands up if you're in a fucked up relationshipHelp me..fuck these kids up in the two seats behind me (waah...)(Yo Sage, that's supposed to be an inner loop beat)I know that (disaster)I know that (disaster)I know that (disaster)I know that (disaster) From Letras Mania