Weird Science ft. Atheist Lyrics

Nineteen seventy motherfucking nine

On a February morning's when my ass sprang to life

Mamma claims I was late

3 weeks past her due date, if that's the case

Well then, I guess my daddy, wasn't, the mailman

(Fuck him)

Sappy pappy sapping happy from the air man

Double dare me to have a tantrum on the air man

I'm Atheist without the hair plan

Did that make sense

Because, my senses sense

(That these)

Pretenses press on your chest like a Lou Thesz press

I'm different, yes, and I'm best, served fresh

By the due date, on this very package, ingest

Find a way to fill your tummy the best

Better take a nibble on a nipple suckle a breast

When I was little, I used to piddle the bed

Now that I'm bigger whip out my dick and piss on some heads

These weird times

Call for weird minds

The kind hip enough to mix up weird science

Bill Nye

Spilt rhymes

Here we are all experiments of weird science

These weird times

Call for weird minds

The kind hip enough to mix up weird science

Bill Nye

Spilt rhymes

Here we are all experiments of weird science

Before I whip it, and whip it good

Before I begin the bustin of cans

Of whoop ass on you hoods

Just hit that and kick back on this track

Like some troubled youth would I could

Speak of troubled youth

By '92 I was skipping' school, smokin' doobies

I was brown but commonly mistaken for a mooly (Hey man!)

When Dave tans his skin turns the color of an eggplant

Did I just say that? (But it's true!)

My Puerto Rican family tree has a few, African roots to boot

I give a hoot, so when I throw out prose I don't pollute

They call me Q add a 1 add food and a few (fuck you)

Average it add some bids add an ex and a wife and the five best kids

Add it all up, it's a life well lived

These weird times

Call for weird minds

The kind hip enough to mix up weird science

Bill Nye

Spilt rhymes

Here we are all experiments of weird science

These weird times

Call for weird minds

The kind hip enough to mix up weird science

Bill Nye

Spilt rhymes

Here we are all experiments of weird science

A lot of rappers say that they just don't give a fuck

I'm just like them

Except I give a fuck, I give two

For Q and my crew, HOL

Yo, I'm feeling real rude, this attitude for real dude

It was nineteen eighty something, I was in the womb

Banging on the belly trying to rock the room

I was born with a mic in my hand (say it again)

I was born with a mic in my hand (playing to win)

I stuck a finger in a socket and blew up like a rocket

Never stoppin when we rock it

We chest choppin, Molly whop 'em

What we have here you don't even want it

Can't handle it like scramblin'

I'm cancellin' champions

I'm dazzlin', I've mastered this

Fittin' a funeral suit for you rappin' stiffs

All right I write shit, that's the day job

Rockin' a show with Q1, that's the night shift

These weird times

Call for weird minds

The kind hip enough to mix up weird science

Bill Nye

Spilt rhymes

Here we are all experiments of weird science

These weird times

Call for weird minds

The kind hip enough to mix up weird science

Bill Nye

Spilt rhymes

Here we are all experiments of weird science