MC Lars

[Homophobe]: Dude that band's so gay.
[Lars]: Really? You mean they're jovial, happy and good-spirited?
[Homophobe]: Wait, what? No I mean, their music sucks.
[Lars]: Oh, I thought you were trying to speak English just then, my bad.

To the dudes across the world, I've got something to say
If you see beauty in the human form, that means you're kind of gay.
Alred Kinsey said it best - the human scale is sliding
completely gay or straight, there's no clear dividing.
And subjects like these strike a serious chord
They tell you that it's wrong to be Bi-curious George
It's the feeling that you get watching sports with your buddies!
In any room of 9ers fans, half of them have chubbies
Footballs that's gay, Milonakis had it right
Guys shower in the locker room and put on pads and tights.
they dance around with balls and slap each other's butts
If you told me that was straight, then I'd tell you that you're nuts
Construction men are gay, erecting buildings all day long
check the Washington Monument, it looks like a giant schlong.
Redneck guys are in the closet, but don't feel bad
Theres still room for rainbow bars on Confederate flags

Everyone's a little bit gay
We try to hide it try to put it away
Confusing feelings don't mean they're wrong
So just sit back listen to my song
Everyone's a little bit gay
Don't get defensive, just know it's okay
Homophobic guys hear what I say
You loved the Village People back in the day

Renaissance man? You can't convince me
That you like chicks yo, right da Vinci?
He liked pepperoni on and off the plate
Just like Aristotle and Alexander the Great
Or ask Walt Whitman and Henry Thoreau
Male bondin' at Walden many years ago
And friendship love's confusing surely
Ask Ren & Stimpy, or Bert and Ernie
Rappers on the DL, have a secret plan
Rob Halford came out, and Atom Goren understands
Carson Daily's manorexic so gay in his demeanor
Just like Pete Wentz, taking pictures of wiener
The AFI guy? Nobody really knows
Check out exhibit A: Glittler Boy Clothes?
but MC Lars isn't gay! I get with chicks every night
So the world will know I'm straight, I mean,
that makes sense, right, (Yeah) right.... ? (It Does)

Everyone's a little bit gay
We try to hide it try to put it away
Confusing feelings don't mean they're wrong
So just sit back listen to my song
Everyone's a little bit gay
You can't deny it, despite what you say
Before you go and judge someone different, wait
Voting Republican won't make you straight

Let me break it down, it's not that scary
you come home for Christmas with a guy named Harry
you offend your mom And your Uncle Larry
You've got to do your thing, just ask Chuck Berry
They ban gay marriage they say it's weird
But tradition comes from habit and tradition comes from fear
And say people rock, just check the facts
So if you're hating on my homos then you're bound to get a smack

Everyone's a little bit gay
We try to hide it try to put it away
Confusing feelings don't mean they're wrong
So just sit back listen to my song
Everyone's a little bit gay
Don't get stressed, just know it's okay
Homophobic rappers hear what I say
You moonwalked in Crenshaw back in the day

Hipster girl: So check this. I just read the Pitchfork review of the new Pavement reissue.
Stephen Malkumus is a genius, but let's face it? he's no Conor Oberst. I'm just saying.
It's not 1994 anymore, duh. Did I show you my new mini skirt/leggings combo?
You know what they say: ugly IS the new hot.

I met her in the thrift shop bumping indie hip-hop
Calculator wrist watch, Shins t-shirt and flip-flops
Queen of the hipster scene, straight out of Vice Magazine
Social outcast at 16 but now she lives her BoHo Dream
She came from Omaha to Williamsburg
She loved Karen O and she had heard
That Brooklyn was the hipster mecca
Packed her bags with her friend Rebecca
Said she had a thing for broke dudes in bands
Who lived by Union or by Grand
So we went down to the Bedford Bar
And bought a six dollar PBR

Hipster girl: Ezra. Go down Bedord, take a right on Metropolitan, then a right on Union,
and then you're here. Just text me when you get here okay?

CHORUS:
Hipster girl
Cool by the numbers and she rocks my world
Knows all the indie bands you've never heard
She's my hipster girl

She thinks uncool stuff is mad cool, indie culture's fad rule
But cool stuff is uncool, right? That's why Friday's Jewel night
She reads books no one has read, laughs at jokes no one has said
So ironic with her taste, her whole life is cut and paste
It's a metrosexual romance, she wears my shirts and I wear her pants
We play dodge ball, kid sports are cool
Watching Spank Rock and McCarren Park Pool
She's my trust fund baby bohemian, her vegan humus keeps her thin,
I love my L-Train girl it's true, she always goes down on the weekends too

Hipster girl: By the way, that pro-Bush shirt you're wearing is making me really uncomfortable,
you may be wearing it ironically, but that doesn't give you the license to be obnoxious? you
look like a hardcore fascist redneck!

CHORUS:
Hipster girl
Cool by the numbers and she rocks my world
Knows all the indie bands you've never heard
She's my hipster girl

BRIDGE:
Donnie Darko makes no sense!
Hipster girl: When did side-pony tails get cool again?
Your fixed-gear bike makes no sense!
Hipster girl: I've been trying to do that dirty-chic thing, you know?
Donnie Darko makes no sense!
Hipster girl: I am so BoHo right now
L train girls don't make sense (I don't get it, I don't get it)

Hipster girl
Cool by the numbers and she rocks my world
Knows all the indie bands you've never heard
She's my hipster girl

Hipster girl
She's got her latte and some spoken word
Ironic statements on her vintage shirts
She's my hipster girl

Hipster girl: I'll give it to you, Napoleon Dynamite was funny, but "Vote for Pedro" t-shirts at
Wal-Mart? What are they thinking. Wal-Mart is evil. Their health care is totally inadequate.
Didn't you see the screening of that Robert Greenwald movie at Pete's Candy Store? It was so sad.
What is with all of these hipsters taking over Williamsburg?

They burned down Troy to get you back!
Young thing, beauty queen, baby got back
They burned down Troy to get you back!
Young thing, beauty queen, baby got back

Since the dawn of time it's always been true
Hot girls, guys will do anything for you
It's not misogyny because men are dumb
Unfortunately, we always succumb
(Hey!)
Harris met this girl on his trip to Sparta
And gave her more power than the Magna Carta
36-24-36C
Helen of Troy rockin' size double D
He said "Hey baby, let's flee to Troy
I'll be your boy toy, forget the hoy paloy
So you're married to a king that runs ancient Greece
That doesn't scare me!" And they sailed northeast
Said "Love conquers all!" her husband said "Conquer this!"
Demolishing Troy with a thousand angry ships (Oohh)
Loves a battlefield, so Paris got iced
Helen married his brother, and that's not very nice!

Hot girls will make guys do really stupid things
Hot girls will make guys do really stupid things
Hot girls will make guys do really stupid really stupid
Girls will make guys do really stupid things
(Some call it fate, while some call it whack
But girls own guys and that's a fact
Some call it fate, while some call it whack
But girls own guys and that's a fact)

There was lady MacBeth, beautiful red hair
Who pushed her man to be a king and millionaire
He said "I'm a (?), there is none higher!"
She said "Become king and they'll call you sire!"
The murder rampage, his wife inspired
And he didn't stop killing 'till he retired!
Remember John Hinckley Junior? (He fell for Jodie Foster)
In 1980 he tried to join the roster
Of Lee Harvey Oswald, and John Wilks Booth
Stepping up to bat like (Who?) Babe Ruth
To win Jodie's heart with sweet innovation
Attempting presidential public assassination
Busting caps at Ronald Reagan, like he was 50 Cent

Like "Look Jodie I love you!" His romantic intent
But Reagan Survived and they locked Hinckley away
And Jodie wont return his calls to this very day!

Hot girls will make guys do really stupid things
Hot girls will make guys do really stupid things
Hot girls will make guys do really stupid really stupid
Girls will make guys do really stupid things
(Some call it fate, while some call it whack
But girls own guys and that's a fact
Some call it fate, while some call it whack
But girls own guys and that's a fact)

And I'll put it on the table, the ladies get me too
I fall for them at shows, but wait I'm not through
I knew this girl named Dana, who lived in Carmel Valley
Brunette with green eyes; a young Kristie Alley
We hung out over break, there was tension in the air
Then I went on tour (So what?) So there!
She called me in Seattle, then I called her back
She said "I can't wait to see you!" So how about that!
I drove down south to see her, feeling kinda good
If something good should happen, then I thought it would
But I got a flat tire, and then I got lost
I got stuck in traffic; I was breathing exhaust!
I showed up, we hung out, she showed me her dorm
She gave me a hug, welcoming and warm
She said "Stay the night, it's too late to drive back
Seeing as we're just friends" Okay.. what? Whack!

And here's the worst part... I left my favorite shirt on her floor... Public Enemy, The Enemy Strikes Black. Jeez!

Hot girls will make guys do really stupid things
Hot girls will make guys do really stupid things
Hot girls will make guys do really stupid really stupid
Girls will make guys do really stupid things
Hot girls will make guys do really stupid things
Hot girls will make guys do really stupid things
Hot girls will make guys do really stupid things
Hot girls will make guys do really stupid things!

This song shows a lesson: When a guy usually does stupid things for a girl. Like, if you let her borrow your acoustic guitar you got when you were 12, and learned all these songs on, and then she didn't get it back to you, and then she went to college, and you didn't see her, and she didn't give the guitar back to you, because apparently she gave you something stupid... which was of equal value, but not really, because that guitar is really nice. It was made in Brazil, and it has nice nylon strings... That's what I'm talking about.

Oh snap, you know this track is fly, so get crunked up and don't ask why.
Post-rap, post-punk, post-Kurt Cobain, post Kool Moe Dee post-House of Pain.
Chuck D told me I had to be me so I bought the Public Enemy CD.
I ripped one track in .mp3, "ill Lars Ulrich came after me.
I said, "It's me your lost nephew", he said, "No way, that can't be true."
I kicked him with my Converse shoe all the way to Timbuktu.
Of Wolf and Ulrich, Sad But True, he lived there for a year or two.
He mastered Puppetry alone, justice for Sean Fanning clones.

Now that's fresh. Now that's fresh, that's fresh (get fresh).
Now that's fresh, that's fresh (I get fresh).
Now that's fresh, that's fresh (get fresh). Now that's fresh.

My Dad's named Bob, he toured with me, when a UK label put out my CD.
I got mad props from the BBC, but hip-hop heads still don't get me.
So I take a chance, I rhyme white but so what? I like James Brown and Beyonce's butt.
Whatever your race I'll Friendster you and rent two Spike Lee NetFlix too.
And I still rock shows and try to dance, still rock Simpsons underpants.
And I still like Rush and Dr. Dre. I still keep bumping N.W.A.
I get fresh on the mike like a milkman on duty,
So burn this disco to the ground and baby shake that booty.
I attack the track like a Steve Segal movie. 3D fresh, not 2D fruity.

Now that's fresh. Now that's fresh, that's fresh (get fresh).
Now that's fresh, that's fresh (I get fresh).
Now that's fresh, that's fresh (get fresh). Now that's fresh.,

05 so live, I've been doing this for years,
making money 'cause I'm funny with this music of the spheres.
And I dance! Hey, watch me dance.
Goofy MC's can't be me even if they had the chance.
Pondora have you seen Persephone?
Hades rabies got me going like KRS-One.
Why is that? (I don't know) MC's act like they don't know.
I poison this track with a Scorpion flow.

Because I rock the mike like a hurricane.
Because I rock the mike like a hurricane.
Because I rock the mike like a hurricane.
Because I rock the mike, hurricane fresh!

Now that's fresh. Now that's fresh, that's fresh (get fresh).
Now that's fresh, that's fresh (I get fresh).
Now that's fresh, that's fresh (get fresh). Now that's fresh.

And people tried to put us down, when iTunes bumped a post-Cold War sound.
My generation sat the mecca of malls, Times Square, I'm there, Viacom installs.
So we hit the net while the Trade Center fell, New York met Hollywood, we ran like hell.
No Vietnam for us, yo, Iraq it's on. So who agree upon this cowboy Genghis Khan?
The choice made, baby. Hey we'd take it back, logged in dropped out, MTV took track.
They sold it back to us and claimed no correlation. The iMac, iPod, iGeneration.
And I'm waiting for the day we can get out. The world is ours, that's the story no doubt.
Want to be more info super highway traffic, want to be more than a walking demographic!

CHORUS
"Hey! You're part of it." Talking about the iGeneration.
"Yeah! You're part of it." Talking about my iGeneration.

See the iGeneration knew organization meant optimization and unification,
When imagination gave participation in creation of culture a manifestation.
The Berlin Wall fell and out we came, the post-Cold War kids laid claim to AIM.
LOL, OMG, yo, BRB. Space, colon, dash, closed parenthesis.
We sat at our laptops and typed away, and found that we each had something to say.
Web-logged our fears, our hopes and dreams. Individuated by digital means.
Fiber optic lenses, DVD, Coca Cola, Disney and Mickey D's.
Flat mass culture, the norm that took hold I hope I die before I get sold.

REPEAT CHORUS

This is the I-N-T-E-R-N-E-T ge-na-ra-tion, see?
This is the I-N-T-E-R-N-E-T ge-na-ra-tion, see?

REPEAT CHORUS

We got EAP in the house tonight, Edgar Allan Poe.
America's favorite anti-transcendentalist.
We're taking this back, way back, nineteenth century style.

<i>[CHORUS]</i>
Who's that (who's that) rapping?
Who's that rapping at my chamber door?
Mr. (mister) Raven!
All up in my grill like, "Nevermore."

Kick it! Once upon a midnight dreary, while I kicked it weak and weary,
Dark and cold just like Lake Eerie, Brand New sample, someone clear me.
While I nodded nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping.
Up like, "What?", this thunder clapping in my brain like graphic Halflings.
Staffing me, I put down Milton. Cell phone mute like Paris Hilton.
Open window, halfway built-in. Times a changing like Bob Dylan.
Twenty-pound bird black as could be, cold feet cold eyes aimed straight at me.
Grim face, grim stare, death carnivore, quothe that raven "Nevermore."

<i>[REPEAT CHORUS]</i>

I miss Lenore, my Annabel Lee, taken by angels from me.
Alone with books (hey that's me!), harbinger of death visiting me.
I said, "Can I help you, evil prophet? If you got a problem, look, I'll solve it."
He checked my hook, DJ revolved it, perched on Pallas, chalice dropped it.
"Tell me sir, please, if you can. Am I good or evil man?
What can I say, what can I do, when will I be rid of you?"
"Nevermore," quothe he at me, hating on this fresh MC,
Satanic raven, Niche glee, killing me softly like the Fugees.
Now I feel worse, my verse is terse, joy inverse just like Fred Durst.
Call a nurse, disperse my thirst??put this process in reverse.
Wish I??d had some warning first, MC Lars, '88 hearse.
Now I'll never be Slug or Murs, under that black raven's curse.
The raven??s eyes still have the seeming of a demon that is dreaming,
Lamplight over him still streaming, hear my screaming, hearme screaming!
My soul still floats there on that floor and shall be lifted nevermore.
Afflicted calm, like Michael Moore, canonized piece, US folklore.

<i>[REPEAT CHORUS]</i>

Who's house? Raven's house!

Once upon a time, in the city of Los Angeles...
""Marty, Marty listen to me. Bring me something the kids will cry for.
Get out there, and get us stoked!""
Meet Marty, major label A&R scout, forty years old, gut hanging out.
Red Ferrari, Marty living in L.A. bumps another line to get through the day.
Dumped by his girl, he paid for her liposuction,
His friends call him ""Money"", in his introduction.
And Marty knows nothing but claims to know it all,
Lose the flat screen TV if he drops the ball.
You're as good as your last hit, find the next big thing.
If he doesn't bring the bling, his cell phone won't ring.
What's the trend, what's new? What's a label scout to do? Office life, Marty 11:32.
The label pres. calls and yells, ""Sign more emo!""
How about screamo? ""If it sells, sign Nemo,""
""We're down 2%, and BMG knows,
My Daughter likes Dashboard, so get me one of those!""
He checks AP.net, the Scout and more,
yelling band names to his assistant through the door.
The kids like this, who cares if it's great?
So he signs a band called Hearts that Hate.
""Marty... we've got a hit.""
CHORUS
Cry tonight. My hands around your hands.
I won't let you die tonight.
Cry tonight. My heart's in your hands.
I won't let you...
Hearts that Hate, Marty goes to their show, up in the club and here we go.
Marty sees a girl in a Simple Plan shirt with a Senses Fail boy, that'll never work.
He finds his label friends in the corner they huddle,
An emo cattle auction, they penetrate the bubble.
They talk about Victory and signing TBS,
Dissing the same bands they just tried to impress.
So the lights go down, the crowd starts to scream,
Hearts that Hate have hit the scene.
Blake on vocals, and lead guitar,
He does a backflip, ""Look how different we are!""
They show up at the studio to record it,
A TRL, Billboard Modern Rock hit.
They auto-tune Blake, but he can't tell.
He says, ""I've got perfect pitch, damn I sing well.""
ProTools, Logic, cut, copy, paste, quantized solos and quantized bass.
Signed, sealed, deliver and sent, across the U.S. and the single went...
REPEAT CHORUS
Momentum builds, but it all caves in.
Industrial comes back, the pres. needs a NIN.
Marty finds a new band called ""Fetal Coil""
And Hearts that Hate try to keep their fans loyal.
They re-work their sound for album number two,
As ""Machines of Hate,"" but their career is through.
They break up and work pushing mops and brooms,
Blake gives guitar lessons in his living room.
Blake gives guitar lessons in his living room,
Blake gives guitar lessons in his living room.
""Can you teach me track five Mr. Blake?""
""Hey, I wrote that song and it goes like this!""
REPEAT CHORUS

9 O'clock class feels like five, asleep at three, so sleep deprived
STAT-60 satisfies 2C, the math GER, not the one for me
The Central Limit Theorem? Speak English
The Sum of Squares? I don't need this
But I'm positive, studying hard, gotta pass this, no holds barred
But essay due last Thursday man, Moby Dick I understand
Up 'till five in the library, Meyer Lair, kind of scary
Asleep at eight then up at ten, missed the lecture can't pretend
I get the null hypothesis... on Tuesday's test, I was dissed

CHORUS
Got STAT-60 on my mind
In my notes and in my rhymes
Chi-squared values all the time
Easy quarter? Not this time

Why'd you have to go and make things so complicated, Professor Thomas?
Never are the quiz score grades ever inflated, but you taught this:
You get involved in radio, work really hard, get your own show
But whoops, you slip, and play a track, uncensored as matter of fact
The FCC gets on your back, the station manager says it's whack
The probability that youOll loose your show on 90. 1? 1. 0
Let's say that you're late for class, racing down peddling fast
You live in A, class is at B, integrate time and velocity
The probability that you'll crash your bike
In White Plaza on the way to Psych,. 34 on your cell phone,. 85 if you hit a cone

REPEAT CHORUS

Let's say you meet this hot sophomore, she likes you, you can't ignore
X the months that you date, P the probability that it's great
You break up but you still kiss, you're not discrete it's continuous
Late night hook ups nebulous, thin line friendship no big fuss
Weekly sessions on the phone, made the right choice, you're on your own
Good to be single all alone, degrees of freedom you can't clone
But calculate E of X, you're at a party you see your ex
The probability that your heart breaks in 2
She's with someone new and it's not you

REPEAT CHORUS

S-T-A-T sixty, baby
S-T-A-T sixty, baby
S-T-A-T sixty, baby
S-T-A-T sixty

I'm going to pass this class, so... you know

Check this C major!

Comin' straight outta Stockholm, a fun boy named Lars,
Survived Loma Prieta, Mad Cow, and SARS.
I hit you with these flows like your name was Nancy Kerrigan
Here and back and there again, atypical American.
Third generation Swedish, second gen. Aussie,
Am I street enough for this? Sometimes I'm "Paranoid" like Ozzy.
See it used to be punk rock for about four years,
I played lead guitar, we dissed Britney Spears,
Amphoteric the name, Central Cali band,
Local shows, t-shirts, EP's, no plan,
Just chilling with the crew slamming power chords,
They wanted more guitars but I got bored.
I was born to rock heads and fill them too,
But did the world really need another Blink 182?
Stuck on this Earth like glue since 1982,
Cooked up my own post-modern salmagundi stew.

<i>[CHORUS]</i>
Straight outta Stockholm, lap-top rap,
American iconoclast, alien boom-bap,
Cali's my home, baby, West Coast boy,
I get more love than Helen of Troy.

Straight outta Stockholm, lap-top rap
American iconoclast, alien boom-bap,
I make rap fun, friendly, fresh and new
MC Lars in the place, yeah boy, I thought you knew!

"But... were you actually born in Stockholm, Lars?"
No, but my family on my Mom's side is Swedish-American.
"Uh... okay."

Comin' straight outta prep school, on the mike at assembly,
Class clown, straight A's, running KSPB.
Pebble Beach, sheltered high school, like a nun on Mars
The Horris was Dr. Quin, Heavyweights gave me Lars.
"So how do you spell it? Yo, what's the website?"
Is it really that hard? "Morris" with an H - alright!
And okay yo today see I'm still experimenting,
Venting & presenting never misrepresenting.
And it's not quite rap, not quite pop,
Alien hip-hop Lars punk rock,
If I make the big time I'll still sit up in my room,
My brain on the keyboard and I'll try to resume,
Such a great story that I'll always behold,
I'll look back on this when I'm 80 years old.
London, New York, UK tour, NY demo,
Tickled as can be, when I tickle you like Elmo.
So much to say, new sounds to try,
Laptop, costumes, local buzz, and why?
Don't ask me, buddy, but you're bumpin' me now!
Amalgam for the future revolution like Mao.
You're right when I grab the mike, I do what I like,
I sit with a pen by the full moon light.
Euphonic epiphany like Keat's lyre trope,
I am it, iambic's rap's last hope.
My Grandma says I have rhyme talent, and I love her.
I flow lethal, Weapon? Lyrical like Danny Glover.
I flip your paradigm manhole cover,
Mutant reptiles, surprised what you discover.
But I still like Bob Dylan more than any MC.
Most depress me, like Hepatitis B.
Reverse them like Pi when they step to me
Nine five one four one point three.

<i>[REPEAT CHORUS]</i>

Hey England... let's kick it.

Cops without guns and the NME.
Should I watch the BBC or should I watch the BBC?
Look at these crazy coins, is this Lord of the Rings?
Pounds and pence and Princes and Queens?
Flipside experience, well not really.
More familiar than Russia or Chile.
Up for cricket or squash, or the London zoo?
Look, you hate George Bush and we do too.
Fab music scene, though, UK bands are ace,
And you guys are the most polite of the human race.
Fish and chips, crumpets, bangers and mash,
Shakespeare, Donne, Sid Vicious and the Clash.
You love our movies, we kind of like yours.
We love the way you talk, "please help help us in these wars."
You stopped staying "fab," we stopped saying "groovy,"
Our Scotland is Canada; you saw the South Park movie.

CHORUS
I love England and visa versa,
American perspective in these Visa verses.
Tea time? Jolly good! Caffeine rush.
Look, a red a phone booth and a double-decker bus.

I love you England, so let's both ignore
The Boston Tea Party, and that silly East Coast war.
Oxford, London, and Guildford too,
Rockin' your P.A.'s when I come to visit you.

The Florida incident? Democracy at work,
But we've still got love for your boy Edmund Burke.
If it weren't for us, you'd be speaking German,
But then we gave you Hanson and Pee Wee Herman.
You gave us the Beatles, and you gave us the Who
We gave you Kris Kross and Vanilla Ice too.
You gave us "Chicken Run" and the Teletubies,
We gave you McDonald's and got you chubby.
You think we're all Trailer Trash obnoxious and noisy.
But that's just Springer, Ricki Lake, and Boise.
We're friendly and fake and proud of our nation,
Overweight, wasting gas, hedonic civilization.
We're sue-happy mad overworked compulsive winners,
Strong facade but insecure, just think Seymour Skinner.
We're obsessed with image, old age and fat,
Technology, death, and our dogs and cats,
The superbowl, shopping, S.U.V.Os and money,
Santa Claus, hygiene and the Easter Bunny.
But bigger is better and we love our T.V.
From L.A. to Boston, to Nashville, Tennessee.
And yes 1/4 of Americans own guns
In case you come back to punish your sons.
But Mother Britain listen, there's still a tie that binds us,
The U.S. isn't perfect, you donOt have to remind us.

REPEAT CHORUS

I wish I was a little bit hyphy, I wish E-40 liked me
I wish I didn't crash going ghostriding nightly
I wish I didn't have to fact the fact that I'm whack on the track, white kids aren't hyphy

got kicked out of Slim's like a week ago
For krumping in the front row, at the Anticon show
And everyone I know says I'm taking my chances
Cruising through Oakland, bumping Sage Francis?
San Jose rappers say they don't want to hear
Angry emo raps by Eyedea and Atmosphere
They hippies out in Berkeley, tell me I should stop
Ghostriding my Volvo wearing Birkenstocks
So I took my dad's Lexus in the Town for a spin
Surprised him back at home with some 18 inch rims
Up at Live 105 jumping on Aaron's desk
Stop playing Mickey Avalon his concepts are a mess
Traxamillion did this beat, now he's calling on the phone
Drank too much hyphy juice and I got a kidney stone
The Bay has come back with a brand new sound
But its so hard to be retarded, I guess I'll never be down

I wish I was a little bit hyphy, I wish E-40 liked me
I wish I didn't crash going ghostriding nightly
I wish I didn't have to face the fact, that I'm whack, on the track, white kids aren't hyphy

I wish I was a little bit hyphy, not quite like Keira Knightley
I wish I had a whip for the girls rockin Nikes
I wish I didn't have to face the fact, when I'm back with the raps, white kids aren't hyphy

showed up at the sydeshow but they laughed at me
Tried to ghostride my whip but I hit a tree
And I can't get my volvo under 60 a gallon
Didn't have any thizz, so I popped a Valium
Because that's how we roll when we in the Yay Area
The rippers ride the Yellow Bus we bring the mass hysteria
I'm up in the club in my brand new stunnas
Had a seizure from the strobe so my moves got dumber
Keak da Sneak looked at me and said 'yo this kid can dance'
I was keeping it so trreal that I split my baggy pants
The I got on the mic all deaf, dumb, and hyphy
From Richmond to Vallejo rappers want to be just like me
E-40's in the scraper with his brand new slumper
Chillin with Bubb Rubb, in his tricked out hummer
Kids yell 'YEE,' the whistles go 'WOO'
Don't know what I just said on this verse, do you?

I wish I was a little bit hyphy, I wish these rappers liked me
I wish they went on myspace always typing 'bite me'
I wish I didn't have to face the fact, that I lack, the attack, white kids aren't hyphy

I wish I was a little bit hyphy, not your average white-g
Catch me in the Source, with five mics, that's unlikely
I wish I didn't have to face the fact, that I'm whack, like I rap, white kids aren't hyphy

I wish I was a little bit hyphy, I wish E-40 liked me
I wish I didn't crash going ghostriding nightly
I wish I didn't have to face the fact, that I'm whack, on the track, white kids aren't hyphy

I wish I was a little bit hyphy, not quite like Keira Knightley
I wish I had a whip for the girls rockin Nikes
I wish I didn't have to face the fact, when I'm back with the raps, white kids aren't hyphy