by Asher Roth
[Verse 1]
Yo, y’all fuckers bore me
Don’t wanna talk about mechanical royalties
I wanna talk about orgies and forgery
World wars and some things more important
Than some record stores pretending there’s only four dwarfs
I’m a Wordsworth – four score some odd years ago
I appeared like a miracle, maybe you didn’t hear me, though…
Hit you with some shit you’ve never heard before
Ash Roth’s raps on herbivore
Lord of sore sportsmanship
Throw shit when I don’t win
When things get grim, I’m Jim
Hardball, times are hard, bra
Tired of playing with the hard ball
Barter with the strong arm
Tall broads, large bra, hard-on
Flaw, I ball like James Harden
Little off, chance he was gay
Fancy when straight
Only pause for long when I stand up buffets
Blinder than Dolly Parton that’s in a Pamela phase
Stamina sweet, handsome eyed, bandage his fate
Haters gon’ hate, but all they say is “damn it, he’s great”
Famished, I need a sandwich to taste
I like my ham with cheese and mayonnaise
Mind your manners on dates
(Stand procedure, sheriff) Yeah, my plan is to wait
Sip a brandy while you stand-ins come and stand in my place
Chairman embrace, let’s keep it going merrily
Listening, I’m terribly
Little george chopping down the cherry tree (true)
There’s a moment in youth when growing ensues
Not only are you growing, but you show and improve
Low and behoove, I’m sewing, let my flowing be proof
Yeah Merloting ain’t the only thing that slowly improves (true)
