Lyrics:
Mayday, mayday, mayday!
My name is Krizz Kaliko
I'm totally alone out here
Well,if there's maybe just one of you left
If anybodies out
walk into the room
Cuz you bring that big parade
Well, you get my attention when you walk your walk
Fire up some wisdom when you talk that talk
walk into the room
Cuz you bring that big parade
Well, you get my attention when you walk your walk
Fire up some wisdom when you talk that talk
Potentate. The illustrious...Coy! Dad blame it! This here's Bubba! Coy, why an't you at the parade?! What?! Well, how'd you get that big Harley up there in
Why oh why must you swoop through the hood
like everybody from the hood is up to no good.
You think all the girls around here are trickin'
up
the funky bass-line
You don't need underdog for a nickel shoeshine or the shoes that's phat
Well, can I get a level on the bass and on the treble?
Footin'
band got some hands up some hands
All my fans I'm in trouble uh-oh
Down sauf the pollution man go down
Well I make up noise like pots and pans
band got some hands up some hands
All my fans I'm in trouble uh-oh
Down sauf the pollution man go down
Well I make up noise like pots and pans
and handsome
And known quite well by all
She's the combination
Called the Wabash Cannonball
Oh, here's to Daddy Claxton
May his name forever stand
And always be
down to the rides on east parade,
By the lights of the palace arcade
And watch night coming down on the sovereign light café
I'm begging you for
said hell yea in them blue jeans
You want that ye well by all means
Y'all ask to play so we'll call teams
I wanna
I wanna
Spitting fire a pyro
Lighting
Well normally at this point, you'd hear me sing
And I'd be doin' that acoustic guitar thing
So by now you're probably wondring what's going on
Cause
a brand new page in the morning sun
So you're made to parade with the mess you made?
Well, by all means
If I followed you, I'd be lost too, that can
This boy is staying acoustic
There's Seeger singing in his heart
He hopes his songs will somehow start
To heal the cracks that split apart
trouble uh-oh
That sound pollution man got down,
Well I make up noise like pots and pans,
They should put my voice in an ice cream van,
That way the streets
get lifted and piff on a lot of tree
Sticky broccoli for botany
I'm sadistic and twisted consciously
And addicted to slick viscid colloquy
Oh shit
I
that I’m fakin'
Well, I'ma take 'em way back
Caught a nigga lackin'
Put a slug through his wave cap
Oh, there they go
Cadillac parked at a racetrack
niggas
Who the fuck said we friends mayday!
Came in this mother fucker by myself
When I leave I'mma take some more niggas
Am allergic to them broke niggas
and no time for a lady
And if you dont get them new songs like on the daily
Then You crazy, You so lazy
You can not do that, Oh now they hate me
Well
bleaches
Never in the history of human diseases, have so many been so let down by so few foolish leaders
Oh lets give it up once again on the victory parade
bells
Banners wavin' shamrocks flyin'
The parade passes by
Marching bands
To the sound of drummers drummin'
Tooraloorah-lay
On St. Patrick's Day
, oh... Oh ,oh.
A pointed finger, a furrowed brow,
Relying on the way's it's been,
To get us through the now
A waning courage, just play it safe.
Well this
Nigella where my fellas
Still ain't taken a loss son
You eating sour black panther
La la la (Oh oh)
La la la (Oh oh)
La la la (Oh oh)
If it was do or die
I'd be saying this here in country music.
We be no stars, imagine be-Boying over acoustic guitars,
Not the sixteen bars.
FEEL ME!
The art of sampling
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