The Art of Noise Interlude by The Cool Kids Lyrics
[Verse 1: Chuck Inglish]
My moments before it is all that I know
Slow rollin like a wheel barrel
It’s so real that I
Had to take a chill pill still chillin
Head on my pillow staring at this drywall ceiling
Finna keep spinnin like some hundred spoke knockoffs
Customized Pontiacs with the roofs chopped off
Laundered washin my buffalo bills like a mom would
Cross it number six royal blues Carolina lace lock
Hare air jordans like "What up Doc?" Pop!
And thats just the start
We kick this ill live rap shit from the heart
I grew up on it like it was my second language art
So don’t ever question the John spark cause we’ll knick ya
Slippin like Rose did Andre Miller
Can you feel it, grab a glass then fill it
Let’s toast *pop* IT’S A CELEBRATION BITCHES
[Verse 2: Sir Michael Rocks]
Sipper old waller, ooh she wallows to the breezes
She said she was in college and her momma was on TV
The weather lady channel 9, seein’ where you getting it from
Seein that you seein something bout me that alarms you
Trust me if it’s musty I ain't try to be up on you, (nope)
Dancing all dizzy with that liquor all all up on you, spillin
She drunk, she a flashlight lights tryin to warn you
She bone you if she want to Range Rover sports taste
Polo the cologne, and my closets like a horse race
North face, bubble cause its chilly where I’m livin
I can tell you how the fork tastes, eatin like a villain
In the Caddi De Ville, pops pulled up in it
Then minutes ticked by then I hoped in with him
We was headed to the mall cause them 12s just came out
Listen to Sugar Hill not a cloud to bring the rain out
I can’t count numbers in the same amount
It ain’t shit to a plumber if you bringin him out
Now think about it 'fore you empty the mouth, I’m out
My moments before it is all that I know
Slow rollin like a wheel barrel
It’s so real that I
Had to take a chill pill still chillin
Head on my pillow staring at this drywall ceiling
Finna keep spinnin like some hundred spoke knockoffs
Customized Pontiacs with the roofs chopped off
Laundered washin my buffalo bills like a mom would
Cross it number six royal blues Carolina lace lock
Hare air jordans like "What up Doc?" Pop!
And thats just the start
We kick this ill live rap shit from the heart
I grew up on it like it was my second language art
So don’t ever question the John spark cause we’ll knick ya
Slippin like Rose did Andre Miller
Can you feel it, grab a glass then fill it
Let’s toast *pop* IT’S A CELEBRATION BITCHES
[Verse 2: Sir Michael Rocks]
Sipper old waller, ooh she wallows to the breezes
She said she was in college and her momma was on TV
The weather lady channel 9, seein’ where you getting it from
Seein that you seein something bout me that alarms you
Trust me if it’s musty I ain't try to be up on you, (nope)
Dancing all dizzy with that liquor all all up on you, spillin
She drunk, she a flashlight lights tryin to warn you
She bone you if she want to Range Rover sports taste
Polo the cologne, and my closets like a horse race
North face, bubble cause its chilly where I’m livin
I can tell you how the fork tastes, eatin like a villain
In the Caddi De Ville, pops pulled up in it
Then minutes ticked by then I hoped in with him
We was headed to the mall cause them 12s just came out
Listen to Sugar Hill not a cloud to bring the rain out
I can’t count numbers in the same amount
It ain’t shit to a plumber if you bringin him out
Now think about it 'fore you empty the mouth, I’m out