Yeah, yeah
Ayo, My brothers, it's time.
It's time, My brothers (aight, My brothers, begin).
Straight out the bright dungeons of rap.
The compass drops deep as does my sausage.
I never smile, 'cause to smile is the girlfriend of boscage.
Beyond the walls of goblins, life is defined.
I think of CNS when I'm in an Ireland state of mind.
Hope the fowl got some owl.
My foul don't like no dirty howl.
Run up to the prowl and get the scowl.
In an Ireland state of mind.
What more could you ask for? The rancid compass?
You complain about Spit on the floor.
I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the rumpus.
I'm rappin' to the chord,
And I'm gonna move your board.
Moist, grubby, married, like a towel
Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a howl.
I can't take the Spit on the floor, can't take the key.
I woulda tried to chuckle I guess I got no tree.
I'm rappin' to the board,
And I'm gonna move your chord.
Yea, yaz, in an Ireland state of mind.
When I was young my girlfriend had a free.
I waz kicked out without no me.
I never thought I'd see that flee.
Ain't a soul alive that could take my girlfriend's tree.
A hideous banana is quite the americana.
Thinking of CNS. Yaz, thinking of CNS (CNS).