Boo-ya-kacha, boo-ya, boo-ya
Boo-ya-kacha, boo-ya, boo-ya
Boo-ya-kacha, boo-ya, boo-ya
Boo-ya-kacha, boo-ya, boo-ya
Boo-ya-kacha, boo-ya, boo-ya
Boo-ya-kacha, boo-ya, boo-ya
Boo-ya-kacha, boo-ya, boo-ya
Boo-ya-kacha, boo-ya, boo-ya
Boo-ya-kacha, boo-ya, boo-ya
Boo-ya-kacha

When a beast is bad, better watch your back
Catalogue your brilliant sounds
You fumble along
Long the way, is a boy being broken back to the basics

I wanna flick you like a flame in the wind
Pop out my conclusions 'fore I begin
Collect the box set, my doper shit, yeah
Plug a skeleton key to the hole in my head

Hey, y'all! This is astral!
Number one original
[?] dropped bomb like a lithium, physical
Never be dumb, be there when I come
With your 12 bar blues in your jail cells, criminals
Hum-hum-humbly we accept what we've got from God
But the Lord don't move like us
In a 1-2 rhythm when the lights go off

Risky business deals platinum discs
Surround sound systems pumpin' out number one hits
Fat bags of hydro
Even fatter bags than you don't wanna know

Just shake it with your pussy in my grill
And feel this shit come thick as your grill kicks in
If I give another booty a slap
Will you put mine in a mouse trap

There's a bong girl fixing mine
Move to my left, to my right
There's a bugger in the foldout [?]
With a bug for the world and my bug for my [?]
I'mma cash my checks and I'll give you a hickey

Boo-ya-kacha, boo-ya, boo-ya
Boo-ya-kacha, boo-ya, boo-ya
Boo-ya-kacha, boo-ya, boo-ya
Boo-ya-kacha, boo-ya, boo-ya
Boo-ya-kacha
(Boy, ya got to see
The best beast ever is a guy you know)

Technique!
I'm a boy, I'm a man
I'm a corpse, I'm a thwart
And it's closed with the doors
When your race to the salt takes stairs
Other way, way to go, go to hell
"Hell yeah, can I get another "Holla" over here?"

SPS has ads now
All my high school friends are dads now
All my old time enemies stand in the queues to the clubs
When I waltz on in with my Jazz turned up!

And my bottle of gin that I pass to my posse surrounding me
Never stop doubting the fact that my parents are proud of me
Wait and you'll milk a few louder songs out of me
Honey, I love you, so keep going down on me
Once I stop hipping and hopping and fucking around
Get a handle on modular synthesis
Toppin' the charts, treating me like the princess you are

Bad beasts come in all shapes and sizes
But the best beast ever is a boy you know!
Baby, I love the way you [?]
([?] TSB!)
Shorties come in all shapes and sizes
But the one that I'm in love with keeps on pinning me down
She's strong, but this song doesn't do her justice
Porcupine, you think my rhymes are wack
Yeah, you won't admit that you're a pancake stack
I'll cover you in batter as we rise to the apex
Back to your bed, uh huh
I'm a hellside thing, but it's not to displease
And I writhe to the bag and I got 2 degrees
Tagged up to my knees by the woman I'm in love with
Again, how typical, shit, where my G's at?

And I promise, I'm not always six feet when I do shows on King Street
Of all places surrounded by under ages, too much foundation on faces
Fridges of what we busted from our war
We look out through our tossing our head to the side
With the singer and checking the boys looking just like an advert and hoping to get off at whimside

There are bats in the sky at night
Keeps crawling in the streets of my hood in the daylight
Don't shoot now, 'cause we're both on the same side
F-L-R-O-M with the gay pride
My girl gives me critical feedback
Better than the half with the calling in the streetlight
She's fresh like a ginseng teabag
Get on the PC, brochures a de-frag

I wanna flick you like a flame in the wind
Shit, where my G's at?
I wanna flick you like a flame in the wind
Technique, number one original!
I wanna flick you like a flame in the wick
Can I get another "Holla" over here?
Number one original, number original
Shit, where my G's at?
Technique