Paroles Bat's Taxi de The Sound Of Urchin

Textes et Paroles de Bat's Taxi

Smooth
Ah, yeah
Thanks a lot, Bobby
for laying it down like it is, man, like it is, man
This song goes out to the yellow taxi
mainly, St. Petersburg, Fla.
Bat's taxi, man, bat's taxi forever yo
This one also goes out to my man Phil Collins, man
'cause he knows that you can't hurry love, baby
So let me sing this one to you, alright

I'm on the tip like the black bean dip
My taxi moves me like the Love Boat ship does
When I'm right on, I'm the first to admit that my lyrical presence is slammin'

And I got my cab, and that's all good, son
And I got my cab, and that's all good, son

Let me sing:
Ring-a-ding-ding-ding-ga-lang-ga
Slice up the manga
Serve up the pie and the happiness pie
I got mine, I got me the hang of this thing
Yellow cab'a singin' "Yabba dabba do"
Do it like Danza, do it like danzic*
the dark chimpan'za that swings from the mic
Do what he like, you it's my/Mike Flintstone, Barney Ramsa*
The work bell rings, I start to sing
"Do wah diddy diddy" like Manfred the Mann'sa
Do what I can'sa to make ends meet'a
Throw mama from a train, like Danny DeVita
Judd Hersh Riga*, my role model
got as much good advice as the *penguin's got the waddle
Supermodel - they don't cuddle - they too busy swiggin' from a three liter bottle of Diet Coke
Soap on the rope
Like a Father's Day
Old Spice
Big boat
Now I gotta pay check
Citi Bank account
Gotta buy some presents with my new allowance
Like a toy, or something, or maybe a mote* or maybe a goat, or maybe a new peacoat
Or maybe some Hall's to sooth my throat

I got a hunch that the Brady's Bunch
I leahzs* punch like the Captain's Crunch
If I don't get hungry then I don't get lunch - but I get busy

And I got my cab, and that's all good, son
And I got my cab, and that's all good, son

Wait, wait, wait, one second
I noticed somethin' great
I used the word "mener" two times on this tape
Oh yeah, that's a first
I know you're all aware I'm a lyrical Einstein: E-MC squared
How about this - I'll take your dare
You got my back, Bobby Smooth?
[Aww, yeah]
I'll use it again
[Use it again?]
Yeah, I'll put that magic word in the jam
Parkin' meter
Pocket* Peter
Alone in cop land
stinkin' up the theater
Stealin' some change for a game of pinball
He's a pinball wizard, like Elton John
He's in with Bickle*
Workin' for the nickle
Like the Children of the Corn's got the motherfuckin' sickle
Conspiracy theory's got my sister teary
Mel Gibson almost died
And it got her learly
I'm not weary
Got a little theory:
Do what you do and do it *ear-ly
Now back to the cab, back to the back
Back in Black like a Marshall Stack
'Cause I'm a drummer, I love to drum
but now I'm drummin' on a microfun
Like Phli Collins
Take a look at me know
I'll sue, sue, sue you if you don't watch out!

'Cause I got ya backs like the sale's got tax
Receive my fax or slip it bbllllp-blllp-bbllp
Clarence's sax drives Springstein's axe to thunder road

And I got my cab, and that's all good, son
And I got my cab, and that's all good, son

'Cause I'm on the tip like the black bean dip
My taxi moves me like the Love Boat ships does
When I'm right on, I'm the first to admit that my lyrical presence is slammin'

And I got my cab, and that's all good, son
And I got my cab, and that's all good, son

Alright, I'ma send this one out to my man, Robbie King
Down in St. P, baby
Bat's taxi forever
Don Cezar in the motherfuckin' house, ya'll
And Treasure Island - ride the bikes
You know what I'm sayin', boyyy?
That's it, man. Peace

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