Thread: ask me about anything = ]

I blame the Dutch! Everyone know they like cookies ...

I like cookies.


uhm a muffin

This is the most retarded cookie song I've ever heard

Now, this is a story all about how
My life got flipped-turned upside down
And I'd like to take a minute
Just sit right there
I'll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel Air

In west Philadelphia born and raised
On the playground was where I spent most of my days
Chillin' out maxin', relaxin' all cool
And all shootin' some b-ball outside of the school
When a couple of guys
Who were up to no good
Startin' makin' trouble in my neighborhood
I got in one little fight and my mom got scared
She said, "You're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel Air"

I whistled for a cab and when it came near
The license plate said, "FRESH" and it had dice in the mirror
If anything I can say this cab is rare
But I thought 'Now forget it' - "Yo homes to Bel Air."

I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8
And I yelled to the cabbie, "Yo homes, smell ya later!"
I looked at my kingdom
I was finally there
To sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel Air.

I'm fearless
Now hear this
I'm earless
And I'm peerless
That means I'm eyeless
Which means I'm tearless
Which means my iris resides where my ears is
Which means I'm blinded
But I'mma find it I can feel it's nearness
But I'mma veer so I don't come near
Like a chicken or a deer
But I remember I'm not a listener or a seer so my windshield smear
Here, you steer, I really shouldn't be behind this, clearly cause my blindness
The windshield is minstrel, the whole grill is roadkill, so trill and so sincere. Yeah, I'm both them there
Took both pills, when a bloke in a trench coat and the locs in the chair had approached him here
And he clear as a ghost, so a biter of the throats in the mirror
The writer of the quotes for the ghosts who supplier of the notes to the living
Riveting is rosy, pockets full of posies, given to the mother of the deceased. Awaken at war, 'til I'm restin' in peace