Uh, what up Voodoo? PlutoZ. Captain Hook. Old Skool Rob We gonna treat ya better. Uh Youre beautiful Voodoo. Uh Voodoos 24! Verse 1 Happy birthday James, youre the king of typography Listen close for this most intimate biography His world play aint heresay, its verbal psychology He oughtta be the kind of sodomy, well he probably Is the best typographist, so throw up your fuckin fist The Immanuel Kant of font, makin suckas wish That they could do it like Voodoo Who knew that hed end up being a 67 hunk of man meat? No need to ask me, James is like family Which makes us incestual but really can you blame me? Hows the weather up there Stretch? Bet its sunny He eats dumps like he likes his eggs, real runny. Uh! Chorus Carole King sings You gotta get up every mornin Voodoo Show the world motherfucker Uh, uh, get up! They gonna treat you better Uh youre beautiful Voodoo. Two four up in this bitch. Verse 2 We dont need a fuckin chorus, dont bore us with oneliners Pokin glory hole in the locker room of the 49ers See Ive known Voodoo for so long we go way back The way he barebacks is like a needle in a haystack The best friends, roommates and lovers Hes always on all fours, like hes duckin for cover Theres no wonder why hell always use a rubber goin raw Throwin slumber parties zero to sixty like a Mazerati uh! Bros before hos is his personal motto On his knees bukaki is like winnin the lotto And you know hes hung like picture frames Whether here or New York City youre our boy Happy Birthday James Outro Uh happy birhtday mother fucker Happy birthday James! Youre beautiful Voodoo Voodoos 24! Uh we out... Like your dad Happy birthday James!
voodoo, uh, james, birthday, happy