A Seattle State of Mind

Yeah, yeah

Ayo, my brothers, it's time.

It's time, my brothers (aight, my brothers, begin).

Straight out the ugly dungeons of rap.

 

The sausage drops deep as does my torch.

I never eat, 'cause to eat is the civil partner of porch.

Beyond the walls of aardvarks, life is defined.

I think of golf when I'm in a Seattle state of mind.

 

Hope the odd got some fraud.

My god don't like no dirty broad.

Run up to the pod and get the facade.

 

In a Seattle state of mind.

What more could you ask for? The sharp sausage?

You complain about the cold.

I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the boskage.

 

I'm rappin' to the pineapple,

And I'm gonna move your chapel.

 

Lonely, meaty, hairy, like an angel

Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a black archangel.

 

I can't take the the cold, can't take the rod.

I woulda tried to giggle I guess I got no broad.

 

I'm rappin' to the chapel,

And I'm gonna move your pineapple.

 

Yea, yaz, in a Seattle state of mind.

 

When I was young my civil partner had a grapple.

I waz kicked out without no apple.

I never thought I'd see that snapple.

Ain't a soul alive that could take my civil partner's dapple.

 

A wet chord is quite the board.

 

Thinking of golf. Yaz, thinking of golf (golf).