I run up in NATO like 'ayo"
Gotcha keeping all options on the table, yall lame-os
Libyan caviar, hard bagel cats, park ranger cats
I'm doing April in Naples, Clark Gable hats
Papal visits, paparazzi caught me, play it back
That's me and Pavarotti with the emiratis
I'm Jim Kong Ill, sake and Asahi, weighing stacks
Not me, I got people I pay for that, I'm so brand nouveau
They say you so Euro cuz I got a bodyguard named Hugo and he's quick to flip your Peugeot
You know, Inspector Clouseau cats
Head of a country yall named twenty minutes back
Keep your ear to BBC for when that goes to crap
Now watch em raise the Union Jack on ya, old chap
But the British are finished, we done speaking English
New world order rap
Write my name in bold, pictureframe in gold
Play the part of scoundrel, got the role down cold
Idi liked that Motown soul, that I outgrown
I'm at my own opera, box seat, binoculars, clap or get your whole town rolled
I got hackers with open sores, working on open source, steal your whole government off a download
When the war hits I'll be in Brazil with Jim Jones' four kids
Or at my home in Wyoming with the doors rigged
Creep and get caught and horsewhipped, or blown to horseshit
A novelist, and my work stand like an obelisk, like tutankhamen's crypt
Barack Obama got Iraq, Osama clipped, but there's one man the man don't want drama with
I got the bogle of a mogul
I ain't no Oval Office hopeful, yall can get a scopeful
I got Topolovs over the Poconos, dropping brochures and posters floating slow
My face everywhere, hair flared, Jim Kong Ill, the face on the million dollar bill
That ain't cake, I got billions in bullion
Tell Bernanke and them Yankees brush up on your Boolean
Yeah my boys is chefs, yall getting julienned
You got De La Hoya's lawyer, all toothy grin
I got DSK suits and they ain't have to sneak the toolys in
No need to conjure no double entendre
Double rocket launchers gotcha hunkered in bunkers, bonkers
Your little country I'll nuke it, leave it gooey as nougat
What's left's included under the rubric of that BLX crew shit
Fuck you forget?
Gotcha keeping all options on the table, yall lame-os
Libyan caviar, hard bagel cats, park ranger cats
I'm doing April in Naples, Clark Gable hats
Papal visits, paparazzi caught me, play it back
That's me and Pavarotti with the emiratis
I'm Jim Kong Ill, sake and Asahi, weighing stacks
Not me, I got people I pay for that, I'm so brand nouveau
They say you so Euro cuz I got a bodyguard named Hugo and he's quick to flip your Peugeot
You know, Inspector Clouseau cats
Head of a country yall named twenty minutes back
Keep your ear to BBC for when that goes to crap
Now watch em raise the Union Jack on ya, old chap
But the British are finished, we done speaking English
New world order rap
Write my name in bold, pictureframe in gold
Play the part of scoundrel, got the role down cold
Idi liked that Motown soul, that I outgrown
I'm at my own opera, box seat, binoculars, clap or get your whole town rolled
I got hackers with open sores, working on open source, steal your whole government off a download
When the war hits I'll be in Brazil with Jim Jones' four kids
Or at my home in Wyoming with the doors rigged
Creep and get caught and horsewhipped, or blown to horseshit
A novelist, and my work stand like an obelisk, like tutankhamen's crypt
Barack Obama got Iraq, Osama clipped, but there's one man the man don't want drama with
I got the bogle of a mogul
I ain't no Oval Office hopeful, yall can get a scopeful
I got Topolovs over the Poconos, dropping brochures and posters floating slow
My face everywhere, hair flared, Jim Kong Ill, the face on the million dollar bill
That ain't cake, I got billions in bullion
Tell Bernanke and them Yankees brush up on your Boolean
Yeah my boys is chefs, yall getting julienned
You got De La Hoya's lawyer, all toothy grin
I got DSK suits and they ain't have to sneak the toolys in
No need to conjure no double entendre
Double rocket launchers gotcha hunkered in bunkers, bonkers
Your little country I'll nuke it, leave it gooey as nougat
What's left's included under the rubric of that BLX crew shit
Fuck you forget?
( John Malkovich )
www.ChordsAZ.com