Kool A.D. - California Music Channel lyrics

[Verse 1: Kool A.D.] Young Wayne Tech Used to play ca**ettes of Bizzy Bone This is what it sounds like when Thugz Cry Plus Eliott Smith, Miss Misery Scotch tape on the holes This is how it goes Arts and crafts Arts and leisure I bring the green t-shirts CD, DVD, Fedex, text message West coast crackalacka-blackalacka-ding-dong Ho-Ho cupcake See me shakalaka my boom-boom Ping-pong clapper with the sing-song laughter Tattoo triage We got three odd reasons why you might wanna f** with Kool A.D Me, me, me When I die, they'll read this and say a genius wrote it Oh sh**, Kool on some oh-no-no sh** Understand me, please understand me Mulatto Franz Kafka Demand mas pasta Hands across [?] America Funk phenomenon, sip the Mama Juana juice give me your wretched Look at my watch, its an Audemars It's the hollow mirrors Get the f** out of here Acts are not reasonable Nibble on the cheese like a weasel do Anything else is not feasible Not allergic to the money, but I sneeze a few times For the crimes and the evil that the dimes and the cheese'll do Kool A.D., I believe in you You believe in me? Used to burn weed and watch CNC And meditate on the G in me Heh, that was a little joke, hee-hee You trying to shine but your rhymes is pee-pee Word like peace, god Reality actually Kool A.D. shall forever remain happily Why you mad at me? Cam'ron, Fresh Prince In the bath with my pants on Known to get my popular song and dance on Might of the man child, grandchild of the land mine See me bring it straight to my booyaka, booyaka Who but the chupacabras want to f** with the G.O.A.T Kool A.D. oh, me so cakey The beat so wavy The street go crazy The internet go nuts The winner get mo' bucks So what? What the f**, I'm too to' up You don't really want to know [gibberish] [Verse 2: Trackademicks] I'm in your face like mucus, out of space like Lucas Honor roll is the crew, b**h, the rest of them are nuisance Better sh**? Prove it, better get ruthless My name in your mouth like you in prison toothless Gross, gotta love a roast And I don't mean pork, I'm talking about jokes Like chickens crossing roads Or pimps swapping hoes Cause the chick was too lazy trying to get that dough But forget that though, this tic-tac-toe I'm talking about Os like three in a row When I get some mo' And you'll be rolling I'm talking on the ball, like "b**h I'm bowling" Folding what I'm holding Tracks on racks on stacks And yes I make slaps on slaps b**h drinking Kool-Aid with Kool A.D Trackademicks putting this on that