Artist: The Notorious F.A.T.: Flabby-Ass
Thug
Album: Rauru at Large
Title: Fly Like a Pie
Real: "Calm
Like a Bomb" by Rage Against the Machine
(Rauru sits at a Thanksgiving dinner table, covered with turkey skeletons, dirty dishes, etc. He wears a stained bib.)
(feel the funk fat)
(feel the funk fat)
Aw feel the funk fat!
Feel the funk fat!
Aw feel the funk fat!
Yum yum yum yum yum yum yum chekkitout yum yum yum
I be cookin' bratwursts and 'slaw,
My gastronomy, peerless
Gas grill returns to burn
Like bouillabaisse from Paris
Like veal from the furnace
I was born ravenous
This is the crispy bun
Born of the toaster's sun
Stroll through the kitchen and the dinner's remains
Same stomachs filled to bursting but with different entrées,
This glutton eatin' everything, leave nothin' but stains
Pick a chef on the globe, yet the meal is the same
There's a bun and a cake
A mutton to bake
There's a malt and a lamb
A lean pepper steak
There's a cranberry topping
A rump-roast of pork
A white tablecloth
A spoon and a fork
And the recipe's the rhyme of the unfed
Whatcha bake whatcha bake whatcha bake what?
Whatcha bake whatcha bake whatcha bake what?
Whatcha bake whatcha bake whatcha bake what?
Whatcha bake whatcha bake whatcha bake what?
We're fly like a pie
We fly like a pie
This ain't apocryphal
Feel my critical mass approach the table
Growls of the empty gut
Chow down! as long as able
The antipasto breadstick muncher
Yes I eat toast,
Hope lies in the smoldering char of burnt roast
Yes, back through the kitchen and the dinner's remains
Same stomachs filled to bursting but with different entrées,
This glutton eatin' everything, leave nothin' but stains
Pick a cookbook at home, yes the meal is the same
There's a bowl full of grits
Some corn on the cob
There's a boat full of gravy
The grill for kabobs
There's a scrap, a bone,
The stomachs that groan,
And the stained white bib that be feelin' like home
And the recipe's the rhyme of the unfed
Whatcha bake whatcha bake whatcha bake what?
Whatcha bake whatcha bake whatcha bake what?
Whatcha bake whatcha bake whatcha bake what?
Whatcha bake whatcha bake whatcha bake what?
Fly like a pie
Fly like a pie
Fly like a pie
Fly like a...PIIIIIIIE
Fly like a pie
Fly like a pie
Fly like a pie
Fly like a...PIIIIIIIE
Fly like a pie
There's potatoes and greens
A dinner to forge
There's a mess of leftovers
For refrigerator storage
There's a belch and a dirty plate
On the dining room floor
There's a right to eat light
And a right to gorge
There's potatoes and greens
A dinner to forge
There's a mess of leftovers
For refrigerator storage
There's a belch and a dirty plate
On the dining room floor
There's the right to eat light
And there's the right to gorge
