Fuck The Facts Lyrics

Fuck The Facts lyrics

Get up funky... huh, let me here ya talk, talk about bitch 



Me I'm a victim of a young girl's suck 

Feeling the emotions through my body ass butt 

Everytime I see her in that god damned dress 

Fell the stomach, busy stomach, that's what I have to confess 



Ah, that's me ya what you see ya 

Telling 'bout my stomach and my feels ya 

Ah that's me ya, watcha see ya 

Telling bout, telling bout me ya 



This is a thing that everybody knows about 

Every boy and bitch so myself I mustn't worry about 

Easy to find, huh, hard to lose 

So me myself and I, we got no chance to choose 



I can't tell ya what I feel ya 

This is a motherfucking problem that I hate ya 

I can't tell ya what I feel ya 

I hate it but I take it but I try to surpress ya 



Chorus: 

Fuck, said fuck, fuck, said fuck the facts 

Fuck, said fuck, fuck, said fuck the facts 



In addition to the point I was talking about 

You must remember my name and all my habits and my attitude 

So listen to the things that I've got to tell 

My name is G on the B.A.S.S. B.G 



Hit the bass in the face seven days of the week ya 

Hanging 'round my posse that's what everybody needs ya 

Me and my band, that's what I stay for - stay for 

Me and my band, that's what I pray for - pray for 



Music has a use for my personality 

Cause if I'd loose it I wouldn't stand it if you know what mean 

My heart is hundred percent music that's what I feel ya - feel ya 

I feel the drummers kick in my B.O.D.Y. so 



I try to combine my fucking emos to the bitch hit 

Try to fight it with my music as hatred 

I try to combine my fucking emos to the bitch hit 

Try to combine it with my music as hatred 



Chorus 



What about my girl, man? 

What about my music, man? 

Ina bona lita 

I can't stand that shit...