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heath mcnease - whammy! (the legend of ron burgundy) lyrics
[verse 1]
i grime a lot, cypress hill crime a lot
if alex vause is in jail, i’ll take what piper got
little hottie donna pinciotti’s pretty body
anybody living knows i give a dirty diddy money
808s and h-lla synthy drumming
got me feeling michael scott, that dunder mifflin dundie
say philly isn’t sunny
mcnizzle isn’t funny
boo me, love me, sue me, hug me
you won’t get a benji from me
i’m next, i’m raymond pabbett, i’m next
so avant garde
[?] altamont speedway concert on x
so wcw jackhammer
chicken head got a jean-claude van dammer
that’s a split with an uppercut punch surprise
brian fantana wearing that s-x panther
(whammy!)
y’all rapper dudes are like afternoon delight swag well
them att-tudes are why half your dudes’ll die fast
y’all rinky d-nk and y’all shrinky d-nk
and y’all mini links
y’all drama queens and ya’ll julian -ssange wikileaks
i’m mr. deeds, longfellow deeds
y’all soft jaw marshmallow cream
y’all ambient ambien music
hey and some y’all are all ketamine
i’m all day, all elohim
my mind stay on better things
phillipians chapter four verse eight think on whatsoever’s clean
[verse 2]
unbreakable david dun-duh-dunn
eight hundred and eight thu-thun-thu-thuns later
snakes on a plane to lond-duh-don
with samuel l. jacks-suh-dun-duh-dun
and m. night shamalamadingdong
that’s a flight that i kinda wanna be on
pop a lot of molly ringwald
started with a monologue of teen wolf
in-a-gadda-da-vita
in a flawed economy where follow a leader
and at night you never wanted solomon to be the
king to write a dirty book of onomatopoeia
my anaconda didn’t even wanna be up in a meet-up
when it’s prolly gonna end up in a prenup
or another common theme would be the d-word
or someone going home with gon-oh-non-oh-rrhea
prestige worldwide, mister
singing “boats ‘n’ hoes” and [?] flawlessly
the catalina wine mixer
sweet child of mine is her
favorite that i’ve ever
kicked with a quartet that’s ride-or-die inside of my white prism
somethin’ [?] question never added up
nicki’s alright but i kinda wanted a fatter b-tt
someone to back it up and steppin’ the batter up
bottom of the ninth grand slam and wrap it up
sounds dope like a midi controller
heart full of love send my enemies over
breaking bread at my crib while i drop sixteens
[?] when it’s over
remember him when it’s over
no juice, no jam when it’s over
pour 40 on the sidewalk for me
when i’m gone i’m about to get it in when it’s over
i’m so ron burgundy
my words fall so perfectly
and my apartment smells like rich mahergany
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