Rumor has it that there’s been a job botched,
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That the ball’s been dropped by hands made of locks
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Blame bounces back and forth like a shuttlecock,
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But give it back to me and it gets ill got, oh no
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You must be mistaken, I have all your children
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But there will be no confessions from me,
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My lips are locked like vaults,
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But you can call me San Andreas but it’s not my fault,
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I heard the rumor had a rendezvous,
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Well yes it came right by my place but it passed right through,
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I’ve made mistakes before yes I must be fair,
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I swear I saw you drop the ball like that New Years Times Square,
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Where did the ball drop it took a walk,
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Sailed like Argonauts, fled like Huguenots,
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Across the sea to Canada from my potato, hot
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And it lands in the hands of the nappy head
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I rise to my defense council, approach the bench
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Relax to the past, but I’m in the present tense
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Acquitted by my diction my conviction
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Appeals to the fabrication of the fiction,
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Never tell a lie, well maybe just a little one,
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But if you wanna point a finger, here’s the middle one,
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I pass the buck like Lindros pass the puck,
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Paparazzi, wanna drag me into the muck, what the!
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I don’t think so I, I sink so you’ll get the picture
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I saw Louise swear on a stack of scriptures
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Scrip was written and I’m just an actor
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Tryin to pull through all the bull like a tractor
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Attractive as a scapegoat, but I’m sorry
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Have to find fault in the folks that came before me
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I checked it, it was wrecked when I arrived here
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But you give them an inch, it will take a light year
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Pass the Buck
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| 2 Skinnee J's |
