Misdirected Hostility-311

Now, I'm not the type to just act like I know Puttin' on an angle, puttin' on a show Speakin' on nothin' makes you a stunt I'll tell you right here yo, I won't front I cross the T's and skip non legitimacies Or else, please I cannot handle all the negative vibe merchants Is that all you have in you perchance So much angst an' pain, it's so wack You should take a tip from the one, Frank Black Play some Pachinko, play some Parcheesi Because all the angst sh*t is just cheesy It's the 311 bliss, too smooth for pissed Lyrics talkin' loud again, yeah, we are the party men Cosmetics that you fretted, we sport a high aesthetic Here go rap kickin' the dazzled crazy mathematic (C'mon) I am what I am, mix some old school jams Onto tape 'cuz the party's in the crates, I scan Step into the realm, what you gonna do Get the party people somethin' funky to listen to Misdirected hostility, that's what you got, see Misdirected hostility, that's what you got, see Misdirected hostility, that's what you got, see Misdirected hostility, that's what you got It's body rock, pop and lock, here's an example Boulevard Chrome beats always ampin' your temple Punks get got in the age of hip hop It's just begun like stolen bikes on a blacktop (C'mon) Born to sing a lyric, immaculately concepted No strain in your game, if your game is respected Come as you are, radio star Drown out the hatred with a rhyme an' electric guitar (Yeah) Dispatched when rap, shattered, the glass of radio access May we turn some soul on their rythmless dances You know the time and they'll know the scoop They'll say it was a rhyme and a beat of a rap group Your rhymes have been outmoded Your rhymes have been outmoded Your rhymes have been outmoded Your rhymes have been outmoded Your rhymes have been outmoded So just quit your belly achin' You're sayin' that you're tortured Give me a f**kin' break and maybe Take out the source of your disparin' What do I mean? Kick the f**kin' heroin I speak from experience Because I didn't see clearly Actin' like a dunce in 1989 I was Coc*ine an' Jim Beam But now it's 95 and I'm Ginseng Misdirected hostility, that's what you got, see Misdirected hostility, that's what you got, see Misdirected hostility, that's what you got, see Misdirected hostility, that's what you got