85 Bucks An Hour Lyrics

Twiztid

Mostasteless

Lyrics to 85 Bucks An Hour
85 Bucks An Hour Video:
Chillen at the studio
Chillen at the studio
85 bucks an hour
So hurry up and loop a beat come on Mike
I'm Violent J but my homies call me shit head
But that's my homies to you I'm Violent J bitch
I put my boys on a track even though they suck
"Yo dawg I'm Dave and I don't five a fuck"
I did a record deal I signed a contract
Technically, for Island I can only rap
But fuck that, with Twiztid I'm a still spit
Even though I got a cold, and I sound like shit
What the fuck was that?
Fuck it, leave it in, the shit is phat
You heard this beat 80 times and it's still freakin
And if you notice my shit don't even rhyme
Look at that I ain't even got a rap and it's still phat
My shit went gold, I got phat knots
And you're still flyering parkin lots
You might say my vocals are up too loud
So I'm a turn 'em up louder just to piss you off!
Psychopathic records are geniuses
Get off our penises
Here comes the chorus, but I ain't got a no hook
Instead I'll just fuck with the phone book
Hello?
Yeah, ugh Hairy Sacks please
Who's this?
Hairy, hey this is Slim Anus down at the canery
Ugh, take shoot at the bulletin
Somethin about ugh, you fillin in his slot tonight down at the ugh,
Garage we got a casement of fudge
We need as many packers as we can get
Duh, ugh, Sacks
Hello?
My name is Jamie Madrox and I got fat balls
I'm always urinating in the Motel Halls
I got a big head that never fits a hat
So you aint ever seein me wear a damn thing green bitch
I'm far from rich, I got a hooptie
With a smash in the fender and in the back to
I got a broken tail light and I'll smash you
Bitch get outta my way we got Clown Love
Phat props to the lyrical town dove
It's the m-o, n-o, and I can't even spell the rest
It takes to long and I need a fucken cigarette
I can't hear my right ears mad whack
So shut the fuck up and listen or get and ass kicked
I slap hoes, and call them bitches to there faces
And scream out FUCK OFF BITCH,
Twiztid in their place
So back off recognize and check this
Simply my dear I don't give a FUCK
Psychopathic
Yo there's more chiles in this peace what's up son?
Hello? Yeah what's up son?
I'm Lookin for this deal know what I'm sayin?
I got raps to bust for ya'll
Ya'll ready for Mo Chile's?
I'm bout to kick this flow, you ready to kick it or what?
Who's this?
We're light son,
I'm Mo Chiles straight from the hood
I got all my peoplez on 1-800 and Chris Shaw
We commin home
My names 2 Dope and sometimes Shaggy
Sometimes Shaggs and sometimes Gweedy
I gets mad stupid, I gets mad ill
I done it all five, fuck it I do it still
Stretch my nuts back like a slingshot and plant 'em in your mouth
Shake my hips like Elvis
Wigglin my pelvis
I skipped that step
Apply the camera clutches stretch it back like a mutha fucken bungy jump
WHAT?
I'm Violent J back to make you smile more
I let my nutsack drag on the tile floor
I kick free styles for miles
My gold comes in piles
I worked on Bell Isle
I picked up dear shit
And now I spit raps
I snap your neck
Cuz my freestyles are fresh
Songwriters: BRUCE, JOSEPH
Publisher: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
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