Funkoars - Bad Habits текст песни

[Psychiatrist]
All right people, we're gonna talk about bad habits,
I used to have a bad habit when I had a yeast infection, where I scratched it continually!
First person I want to talk about, their bad habits, is you Headlock, what have you got to say?

[Verse 1 - Headlock]
A lot of people are like, "Headlock's got issues",
Fuck that, I got a subscription and a full box of tissues.
I'm not a character, I play one in my imagination,
And before shaking my hand you might consider vaccination.
Yeah I'm that dude that's in elevators arguing with himself,
'Cause I don't have time to talk to anyone else.
Any chick that sits down next to me when I'm drinking at bars,
I cough in her face and tell her, "I think I have SARS".
Bi-polar, eye disorder, I talk so (Interruption)
(Unclear Rabble)
But that comes and goes, sort of like me.
I don't love you hoes so I jerk off then I leave,
You don't know bad habits 'til you've lived like me.
Walk a mile in my shoes, they suck and I want your Nike's.
I guess the worst thing I do when I'm guesting on tracks,
I scream, "Headlock", for a cut and make the rest of it whack.

[Psychiatrist]
Alright, I'm going to get myself a cut,
Mr. Suttersutter.

[Verse 2 - Trials]
It's the Aussie sex symbol, you better ask your mother,
I'm like hip hop's version of that dude, Dieter Brummer.
I've got a slight habit, girls call me vain,
'Cause my brain's a one-track mind made up of my face.
There's no complaints, ladies know that I'm good,
And women faint when they check the size of the manhood.
Like, (What a man, what a man, what a man, what a mighty good man! Say it again now)
My sex style is tight like Liv Tyler,
Quite the pimp kind of guy to kiss like a,
Exact replica of Gene Simmons,
These teach the women cop the breaststroke like I was swimming.
I sorta lie like the chicks that I say that I lay,
On their backs on a day to day base.
But honestly, I couldn't set a pulse on fire,
So signing off, Mr Trials, compulsive liar.

[Psychiatrist]
Don't be so hard on yourself, you're a strapping young lad.
Pressure, what do you got to say?

[Verse 3 - Pressure]
I get so drunk I fall flat, landing hard on my chin,
Crack a retarded grin, my eyes get this glazed, looking far from a king.
To attain drunk, my thoughts are a fumble,
I try to talk but I mumble, try to walk but I stumble.
And when my mind gets as dirty as a pint of Coopers,
I delve down for a few rounds of pocket snooker.
I like hawking loogies, picking plaque from my teeth,
Scratching my arse, fartin', and long walks on the beach.
So how about it girls? I'm an eligible bachelor,
Some guys will buy you flowers, I'm gunna get drunk and rap for you.
Then stagger to the closest quarter, open my drawers,
Then spew before you claim he was a closed talker.
See, I got habits as bad, like faggots that drag.
Make your stomach churn like retards having a shag,
Man, my rapping is sad, (No doubt)
And when I was at your house,
I picked my nose and wiped it under your couch.

[Psychiatrist]
I hope that wasn't my couch, it was made by Pakistani Seventh-day Adventists!

[Verse 4 - Sesta]
I wish I was a bad habit, it's an epidemic,
I'm legging it from paramedics when given the sedative.
You see, I wish I could settle it but my best bet's to get it severed from my neck,
Then I would get respected.
'Til then I guess I'll just,
Take a breather and beat up the weak and feeble for even believing they could defeat me.
I'd only take them on if they were smaller, with my mates and his were gone.
At least I don't take drugs, I just use them as my excuse,
To act the way that I do, so disregard what I say to you.
My mind's fucked up, corrupted.
My shirt's tucked only when my butt's sucked in, it must be the gluttony,
From Monday to Sunday, I wanna go out like Pun so catch me at the buffet.
You see these hairy palms? They don't mean no harm,
I'm in need of an eating companion 'cause I'm sick of my left arm.

[Psychiatrist]
Sesta, if you're hungry I'll have Marco prepare you a trifle.

[Verse 5 - Suffa]
I only smoke a pack on a good night,
On a bad night I smoke two packs like Suge Knight.(?)
Then when Saturday comes it feels like a chimney shat on my lungs,
Fuck your patches and gums.
(They call me Goldfinger)
You should see I got the illist hands from puffing on the 12 milligrams,
(Goldfinger)
I swear man it looks like I've been stirring a curry with my bare hands.
And my breath gets funky, I know huh?
But if you don't like kissin' a smoker, then just blow one.
I smoke to the butt, I choke 'til it's done,
Like dope smoker's, toke it right down to their thumb.
And if I could quit, (Shit)
I could save the dollars to get my lungs flushed by a Mexican doctor.
(Achh he no speak English!)
And he's completely incompetent,
And doing a procedure that's banned on six continents,
Bring out your dumb.

[Psychiatrist]
Bring out your dumb!? I'll bring out a can of whoop-ass on you.
You shouldn't put people down.
Anyway, it's been a really good session everyone,
You're very clever people,
Hopefully now you've got that out of your system you can address your problems

[Reflux]
"Doing your crib... break a sample like a bad habit"
(Scratches)
"Bad habit"