Asher Roth - More Cowbell lyrics

rate me

In the meadows where we grow the rose petals

and we sip glass of merlot while I blow the portabellow

like Cruello with a cigarillo, hello, listen up

this is Asher from the Morrisville little north of Truck

what the fuck, oh you didn’t know, little homie flow

Hes a pro Use a little more, yous a little slow, how slow?

Little kelso, smoking elbow,

And so let me know, I just give you my cell phone

hell froze elbow, stickin like velcro, so you ain’t got the pasta, you don’t get the pesto,

presto goes, to infinity and beyond it, rhyme shit spittin gets imprinted on your conscious,

ash says, "this is the world sitting in your palm but it’s important that you notice so you never did it wrong" it’s my mom reading all the star in the card has called me to go and be the motherfucken boss

ricky ross, look at paul roth, the kids is all talk, he’s a knock, he’s a lost cause, fuck em cut him off

But this dogs off his leash, I’m showing you my teeth, when I speak yeah i mean to bring promethius heat.

leanin in seat, You think that they believe in the decete, a commercial MC keeping ears to the street cause jeez

im sick i watching all the shit go... but the song I’ve done it’s yet so start marchin, a marksman

And part marge, part bart simpson but the other part to cut bars is raw wisdom, a false starter, is part of a larger mission

But you'd rather slack off with sharks than to pay attention so part all the other sub par spittin

My time is limited and i refuse to waste a minute

So finish post a (no idea) up his ass, bust a I puff it pass

whats up with ash, what happened, yo I heard the fucker cracked

yo, i heard he got abducted, they pu somthin up his ass, but I heard he had a run in with a bear and got attacked, oh my God! where do you come up with that And go run and tell your mother that this motherfucker’s back

pay for postage and that, bring my own bags, now

How you wanna pay for that? Straight cash, evil laugh yeah, i’ve been playin

phone tag for the last Six months with my label, tell them fools to call me back,(somthing here) sippin chardonay, fifty times a day, feeling great

can’t wait to taste the marmalade

..with tricks to find me good greif lucy i treat it like Bruce Lee,

Why ...truth in to deep .. my speech be like i mixed rufies with cool keith.

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Thanks to kyler for correcting these lyrics

Thanks to King for correcting these lyrics