Satellite High - Stan Spudowski lyrics

[Intro] APC Brakka Patta Para Jacka Desert Boot Clarks Ray Ban splanga APC Brakka Patta Para Jacka Desert Boot Clarks Ray Ban splanga [Verse 1] Waiting for the bus in the rain... nah, run that Little devil, snapback on my dunce cap Willie Mayes, home-runner till you're done, cat Bartman, dude, you're a bummer in a Cubs hat f** dubstep drops, man, I got slap Rap game Philip Gla**, and you're Scott Stapp Metaphoring, bring the kettle and the pot back Good's subjective, but I know it's not that Get live on the mic with props And just hanging on the burner cuz I like it hot Track dead, this a murder, better call the cops Game gets bloody and it's hard to watch J-Will taking gnarly shots Just chewing on a gla** till your barley hops I'ma snatch Keith's liquor, smoke Marley's pot And blow lines on a f**ing iCarly spot (i get rude) [Hook] Hey kids, better recognize X-Ray's metal, got electric eyes Got the game unsettled when I maximize Laser-pointer spitter leaving cats surprised Just trace on the wall like what Draw space on the wall like what No mistakes on the wall anyway Kool-Aid man break through the wall like "HEEEY" [Verse 2] Haters do what they can to house me Staple-gun spitting, I am Stan Spudowski In your spot, get your man to bounce me 'Fore I rush up, make your biggest fans announce me Wreck shop like a bull in china Make a crowd want to move like the Forty-Niners Open mic rappers, you're corny whiners Dio up in Denny's, this a Holy Diner Hold the line cuz I'm letting it go slack Ghost unrepentant putting coal in your smokestack Most raps unsettling, I never can go back Gold caps of melanin, I'm dyeing my soul black Put your dukes down, grab your pencil Hope you test better than the crap you stencil Make your chest shatter like a gla** utensil I was born with the sk**s; rap's prehensile [Hook] Hey kids, better recognize X-Ray's metal, got electric eyes Got the game unsettled when I maximize Laser-pointer spitter leaving cats surprised Just trace on the wall like what Draw space on the wall like what No mistakes on the wall anyway Kool-Aid man break through the wall like "HEEEY" [Verse 3] To the letter, I'm better than competitors Even veterans benefit from my rhetoric's impact, I'm gettin the Credit for setting the rhyme predator styles Without needing a proofreading editor, et cetera, while You cats getting upset or, like, ga**ed up - unleaded I said it; it's real - a step above synthetic Prophetic force foretold of my birth; telekinetic When I snap the mic into my hand like a prosthetic Call a medic - I'm rolling through, you know my sh**'s authentic I occupy an edit, son, I ninety-nine percent it Listen up when I let it off, or better yet appreciate the presence Of a better bomb ticking when you set it Broadcast in a minute; fast-internet it Put you on blast, a kicking-your-a** epidemic League champ, move fast for the pennant Light-headed when you get it again and again and again, it's... [Outro] Clap your hands, everybody And everybody just clap your hands And if you like how I say it from the front to the back All my people, let me hear you say "yeah"