Sep Seven Game Show Theme Lyrics & Tabs by Atmosphere
Sep Seven Game Show Theme
guitar chords lyrics
(First of all, let meduce you…
Seven, seven, seven, seven… ha ha!)
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"All right all you players and player haters
Once again it's time for the Sep Sev Game Show!
Recorded live right here in lovely snowy Minnesota.
This is the game where we make the average player a star.
Now, if you'll join me, let's give it up for the host of the
Sep Sev Game Show. That's right, here he is, Mr. Sep Sev!"
(All right y'all it's time. Beyond, I want you and Ant to hold down the front the main entrances, keep an eye on them security guards. Eyedea, you stay out here and keep the truck goin'. Yo me and Gene Pool we're gonna hit up all these sick dumb fucks. Everybody get ready drop the masks, turn the safety's off here we go, you ready? 1, 2, 3!)
Yo, yo yo, fuck the money!
Everyone on the floor, drop
I want all the food in the bag
I ain't tryin' to hear that sore talk
Everyone on the floor, drop
I want all the food in the bag
I ain't tryin' to hear that sore talk
Stole the dinner and rigged it to the freeway
Flipped the screen play
And made every love scene a three-way
Soundtrack recorded here in Minne-snow-ta
Tastes like ambrosia
And disinfects pet odors
Yo, let's hold our breath
And show your chest
If you're proud of it
And wake me back to safety
If you see me fallin' out a bit
Under a full moon
The color of my jism
You can see her in the distance
The images vivid
And given the way the clouds moved
It fucked with the lighting
Grabbed me by the thoughts
And pulled me tight like a kite string
"All right, let's here it for contestant number one"
(Woo, yeah, look at me. Woo, ha)
"What's your name sir?"
(I'm MC Famous the Killer.)
"Okay Mr. Anus Driller, do you want to play the next round for a Lexus? Matching socks? Or a harem of horny Miami based video honeys?"
(Oh my God, yo, a whole bunch of Bay Watch bitches!)
"Or do you just want to take the phony looking fifty dollar bills and run with the money?"
(I want the sex man, just gimme the chicks man, just let me touch ‘em man.)
Now what if I spent
My whole take home percent
On gettin' bent
And now I can't afford my rent
Do I grab a crowbar to your back door?
Or hit up Super America for the cash drawer?
Fast forward
I should be honest
Cuz even my outer conscious
Knows the odds of blowin' up
Are equal to people wakin' up
From sleepin'
Keepin' me from retrievin' kingdoms
Their bedtime stories used to bore me with
Positioned in the orbit of my imagination
Small portions if even that much
Lusted by that drug
Fell in lust with the brush
Hush, maybe somewhere in it
I became a cynic
But your sexy grin
Gets less attractive by the minute
The planets in my head
Now rotate around the mind
The substance
The bug shit
All of my circumference
And I function
Like I don't give a fuck
If you grasp it
Resent the bitch that don't
And cast him to the masses
I ask: Is that right?
I answer: Does it matter?
I was glancin' at how you fancied the passion (bastard)
How fast you scaled the ladder to jump
I'd rather just flunk and gather your junk
Yo dog, you should blast that punk
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, I told you I was good at this shit!)
"All right, in this next round our contestant is gonna slam a whole bottle of expensive fire water, chase it with a forty of malt liquor, smoke a blunt, load a gun, a sell records to fourteen year olds all over the country. And the first one of you genocidal, fashion fantasy fucks to go platinum wins."
"Mr. Announcer tell ‘em what they'll win!"
Pissed on the asti spumante
Sippin' kamikazes
Shoulda called mommy
When you saw me
Pull up and deny me
The rest of your life's a flashback
When I jump out that hatchback
Here's your tap give me my cash back
For them whack tracks
And that's that
In fact, that's all you need
Either take some kind of lead
Or fall to your knees and bleed
And how's your seed?
And how's that rental runnin'?
And how's the weed sellin'?
And how's the demo comin'?
Yo, yo, me and my participants
Be the reason why you
And your crew bit your lips
Stick this in your mouth to cleanse it
The fucking props is too expensive
It makes me wanna end it
Repent kid
My advice is from here on out
You purchase yellow boxers
That way when your bitch does your laundry
She won't tell her mom about the stains
Created when I skated across that flat surface
You refer to as "lyrical endowment"
That con that conscious
Run down with that trial …
That way I have some type of fluid…
With what to expect on my next…
From exponent to exponent to exponent…
I've flown around the world…
