85 bucks an hour

85 bucks an hour Lyrics

Chillin at the studio
Chillin at the studio $85 bucks an hour
So hurry up and loop a beat Mike, come on!
I'm Violent J, but my homies call me sh*thead
But that's my homies
To you I'm Violent J b**ch
I put my boys on the track even though they suck
"Yo dawg I'm Dave I don't give a f**k."
I did a record deal
I signed a contract
Technically for Island I can only rap
But f**k that, with Twiztid I'ma still spit
Even though I got a cold and I sound like sh*t
What the f**k was that (Coughs)
f**k it, leave it in that sh*t was phat
You heard this beat 80 times and I'ma still freak it
And if you notice my sh*t don't even rhyme
Look at that
I ain't even got a rap and it's still phat
My sh*t went gold
I got fat knots
And your still flyering parking lots
You might say my vocals are up too loud
So I'ma turn em up louder and I'll p**s you off.
Psychopathic Records are geniuses
Get off on penises
Here comes the chorus, but I got no hook
Instead I'll just f**k with the phonebook
Phone rings
Hello?
Yeah uh Harry Sacks please?
Who is this?
Uh Harry hey this is Slim Anus down at the cannery uh,
Dick Shooter left a bulletin, something about uh
Tou filling in his slot tonight down at the uh garage
We got a casement of fudge, we need as many packers
that we can get uh, uh 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 ain't seen me wearin a damn thing green b**ch
I'm far from rich I got a hooptie
With a smash in the fender
And in the back too
I got a broken tail light and I'll smash you, b**ch
Get outta my way, we got clown luv
Phat props to the lyrical Tom Dub.
It's the M, O, N, O, and I can't even spell the rest
It takes too long and I need a f**kin cigarette
I can't hear
My right ear's mad wack
So shut the f**k up and listen or get an ass kicking
I slap hoes and call them b**ches to their face
And scream "Now f**k off b**ch, Twiztid in the place!"
So back up, recognize and check nuts
Cause simply my dear, I don't give a f**k!
Phone rings
Psychopathic
Yo this Mo Styles in dis peace, what's up son?
Hello?
Yeah, what's up son
I'm lookin' for this deal you know what I'm sayin
I got raps to bust for y'all
Y'all ready for Mo Styles?
I'm about to kick this flow
You ready for this sh*t or what?
Who is this?
Word light son
I'm Mo Styles
I'm straight from the hood
I got all my peoples on 1-800-increase-y'all
We coming hard
(Bring it, bring it, bring it)
My name's 2 Dope
And sometimes Shaggy
Sometimes Shaggs
And some times Gweedy
I get mad stupid
I gets mad ill
Locked down on all 5, f**k it
I do this still
Stretch my nuts back like a sling shot
I plant em in your mouth
Shake my hips like Elvis
Wiggling my pelvis
Last kid that stepped
I applied the camel clutch
And stretched his back like a muthaf**kin bungie jump
What!
(Uh, uh, uh)
I'm Violent J back to make you smile more
I let my nut sac drag on the tile floor
I kick free styles for miles
My gold comes in piles
I worked on Belle Isle
I picked up deer sh*t and now I spit raps
I snap your neck
Cause my free styles are fresh.
(Laughs)