Funkoars - What's Your Malfunction Lyrics

Lyrics What's Your Malfunction - Funkoars



Welcome back to who gives a flying fuck, community radio
The only place that plays the songs that you don't give a flying fuck about
Be the first caller in the next fifteen minutes to receive absolutely fucking nothing
Feelin' alright, had a top day
Vibin' all night, on the Bombay
On the bull 'til I drop and then I took a sip
But who know's what the fuck's in this
Now I'm feeling a little left of the center
Thinking I've hadn't had a dance, looking like I walked into web
Pants falling again, who would have thought? Pull them up, nobody seen and you got away clean
They don't need to know that your dick range in fallacy
When it's flaccid, Double-A battery
Nah, I'm kidding, I'm swing-a-ding-a-lingin' on your missus kickin' in front of you bruv while she's playing with it
Is that your BF? (No) Well, where's your GF? (Shit) What the beef, bitch?
Took a swig of the last bit of whatever's left and I dipped the fuck, and I'm an unconscious mess
What's the malfunction?
What's your malfunction?
Gotta eat, gotta work, gotta shit
Whatever gets you through the night
What's the malfunction?
What's your malfunction?
Gotta eat, gotta work, gotta shit
Whatever gets you through the night
Vibin' all day, still kicking, too cool for the school
But old enough to buy the students the booze
So I'm the cool guy, with the young kids, dim the pool lights,did some dumb shit now!
The fake ID didn't work in the shops
It'll work for the T when she speaks to the cops
I got big feet. (What) You know what this means? (What)
It means penis short but fatter than fritz meat
I get a, get a bit of liquor, pick a chicken head, already chicken fed, now I've got an itchy trigger finger
Mmm, lady, let me test you tonight, I'm not looking for my future wife to get to be next to
I'm looking for the five-minute special, R. Kelly on her belly, then I'll film it on the celly
What's your malfunction? Mother fucker don't start me
Party 'til I'm started walking like I'm Heather McCartney (Ha)
Ooh, ain't got a leg to stand on baby
Let's dance! (Da-dada-dada)
What's the malfunction?
What's your malfunction?
Gotta eat, gotta work, gotta shit
Whatever gets you through the night
What's the malfunction?
What's your malfunction?
Gotta eat, gotta work, gotta shit
Whatever gets you through the night
Blindin' all day, grindin' all night
Love to re-buy, but my cash tight
Look, I'm a sucker for a card game
And with that marked ace, you and your paycheck can part ways
I'm a Funkoar, no respect for cash so I bet my stack on the first draw
Trying to push one past you, an, I'm tilting like a drunk on a three-legged bar stool
My malfunction, my bank ain't big enough, in Crown Car Park, I'm like "stick 'em up!"
If I ain't stuck with tour dates, I'm on the four-eight table talkin' 'til my jaw aches
Now my jacks look good until the king on the last
Some bad beats like a Swedish massage or the Texas, yeah, even nil or all draw
Your money's welcome at mine, just leave your luck at the door, and tell me ...
What's your malfunction? (Yeah)
What's your malfunction? (Honz)
What's your malfunction?
What's your malfunction?
What's the malfunction?
What's your malfunction?
Gotta eat, gotta work, gotta shit
Whatever gets you through the night
What's the malfunction?
What's your malfunction?
Gotta eat, gotta work, gotta shit
Whatever gets you through the night



Writer(s): Matthew Honson, Daniel Rankine, Daniel Mark Yates, Adam Baker


Funkoars - The Hangover - Premium Edition
Album The Hangover - Premium Edition
date of release
01-01-2009




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