Sangtekst: MC Chris. White Kids Love Hip-Hop.
white kids love hip hop and disc jocks, go-carts and fist fights, getting drunk on bud
then getting high like a pitch pipe. are you an mc chris type; a hip hop lovin' half pint?
then just turn on your heartlight. a bunsen burner barfly. this is our time blast it from
the boombox, liberate the goondocks, saw your cousin in a tube top, bust a nugget in a
tube sock. it's tupac, it's big pop, it's hip hop, it don't stop. I love that song,
I love that groove. motherfucker, well I can't help but move. so if you don't mind, if it's
alright with you I'm gonna get in the electric slide line just to prove that:
chorus a?? white kids love hip hop x3
white kids love hip hop and axel, tractors and rambo, playing unreal tournament with
infinite ammo. taggers and vandals in black socks and sandals, doin as many drugs as they
can motherfuckin' handle. skippin' school, breakin' rules and flippin the bird, fast food
cartoons after ittin' some erb. freakin dem flirts, making'm pur till it hurts, just a
couple nerds clockin' the curbs, a couple a words about my nilla wiggas, packin peters
that are measured in milimeters. we don't talk in the theaters like we're siskel and ebert.
we drink box wine and we listen to weezer.
chorus repeat
man, there's nothin' to do in this stupid town
rope swing's busted, stinking cops allways kicking me out of the park
manager of the 7-11 always says "get off my curb you good for nothing"
all the girls already know I'm a bad kisser so they don't come anywhere near me
I don't know how many times I've been to TGIF
a kid can eat an onion bloom only so many times
bowling's boring, the skating rink's been taken over by 12 year olds
there ain't no good movies out, blockbuster never has any good gamesin
I don't want to play Bombad Racing, I mean what the heck is that?
I'm sick of all my records and every time I walk into a record store, I forget what I want to get
and their ain't nothing on TV, not a stupid thing!
There ain't nothing to do 'cept take naps
and wait paitently for death!
chorus repeat
wanggggg, oh bullshit...
then getting high like a pitch pipe. are you an mc chris type; a hip hop lovin' half pint?
then just turn on your heartlight. a bunsen burner barfly. this is our time blast it from
the boombox, liberate the goondocks, saw your cousin in a tube top, bust a nugget in a
tube sock. it's tupac, it's big pop, it's hip hop, it don't stop. I love that song,
I love that groove. motherfucker, well I can't help but move. so if you don't mind, if it's
alright with you I'm gonna get in the electric slide line just to prove that:
chorus a?? white kids love hip hop x3
white kids love hip hop and axel, tractors and rambo, playing unreal tournament with
infinite ammo. taggers and vandals in black socks and sandals, doin as many drugs as they
can motherfuckin' handle. skippin' school, breakin' rules and flippin the bird, fast food
cartoons after ittin' some erb. freakin dem flirts, making'm pur till it hurts, just a
couple nerds clockin' the curbs, a couple a words about my nilla wiggas, packin peters
that are measured in milimeters. we don't talk in the theaters like we're siskel and ebert.
we drink box wine and we listen to weezer.
chorus repeat
man, there's nothin' to do in this stupid town
rope swing's busted, stinking cops allways kicking me out of the park
manager of the 7-11 always says "get off my curb you good for nothing"
all the girls already know I'm a bad kisser so they don't come anywhere near me
I don't know how many times I've been to TGIF
a kid can eat an onion bloom only so many times
bowling's boring, the skating rink's been taken over by 12 year olds
there ain't no good movies out, blockbuster never has any good gamesin
I don't want to play Bombad Racing, I mean what the heck is that?
I'm sick of all my records and every time I walk into a record store, I forget what I want to get
and their ain't nothing on TV, not a stupid thing!
There ain't nothing to do 'cept take naps
and wait paitently for death!
chorus repeat
wanggggg, oh bullshit...
MC Chris
MC Chris