Back to the previous page

Artist: The Beatnuts
Album:  40 oz/Sandwiches 12" *
Song:   Sandwiches (Extended)
Typed by:

* White Label 12" available at

[Psycho Les]
Punk, what you gonna do now, sausage 
When I strap you to the chair and fuck your bitch with my ostrich-
Size dick, bitch gets hypnotized quick
Then I flip her little ass like a side kick (Word)
The names not Bond, so come on and pass me the light
Or the hydro chron 
Bust it, I make bitches make me sandwiches
And scratch my ass when it itches, scratch it

It's the funk freaker, not being the type who be bragging
Keep my belt loose in my ?jabobee? like Dragon
Keep a loaded clip in my sock, pack a glock
And I kick it with my niggas up the block
Lyrical monster still going for the jugular
Still ugly and I'm only getting ugular
Word up kid, I'm on another level
Way down low, smoking cheeba with the devil
Drunk as shit yo, my breath is mad stinking
The devil got sick but my ass kept drinking
So I slid, cause the nigga couldn't hang
Went up the block to go check my man
But really check your sister because I sorta missed her
I ain't hit it lately cause she said she had a blister
But now she's good and you know I'm going to hit her
Turn her around and let her have it in the shitter

[Psycho Les]
I'm snatching purses, chains, write graffiti on the trains
Disconnect the IV from my fucking veins
And escape, bootleggers don't sell my tape
Last nigga I caught, I left his ass in bad shape
Oh shit, who's that homegirl with the blunt?
Yo, your eyes crazy red, I know what you want
You want the demon in you, you say no one can skin you
Stop fronting bitch, and let me fucking bend you down
Just like a comma, word to your momma
Eat that pussy like a cherry 
Check it out, uh

You know how it goes
We've been representing the funk since '84
Inhale, I smoke roaches with basketball coaches
And stick my dills in the chocas