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letra de mutie! - shoelace

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[verse 1]

professor x says “pay attention students,/
everywhere i look, all i see is mutants/
mami i thought you said that you were never like this/
then everytime i see you out, girl you shapeshift/
walking through the mall trying to spend dollars/
and then you appear on the wall, like a nightcrawler/
oh no ma ma we can’t kiss this time/
you’re no jean grey but i heard your mouth has read some minds/

and your friends got some powers too/
one of em got the siren yell/
ones a monster sippin ‘ale/
dang, and now ya barging in my office/
skimpy little dress and your body’s looking colosssus/

mutie girl like you is crazy!”/
works in a roadhouse, like patrick schwayze/
“no i can’t let you drive this here’s a rental/
better not get pulled over by the sentinels!”/
get a ticket then ya remy gotta cough hard/
like gambit, let me put this on my charge card/
cops look like blobs/oh lard!/
magneto cheetos’ll leave ya face scarred/
fake mc’s, ya know ya can’t manage
holding that mic like a subway samitch/
look up at the count of three, fireworks to see/
he escapes in the racket. “thats my girl jubilee!”/

[hook plays out]

she’s a ferocious lion/
swear by her eyes, that she was from the island/
popped open wide, looking like a gecko/
staring at matt cee, while he was playing techno/
“whats that on your mouth? whatcha been eatin beignets?”/
ain’t seen a face that crusty since the fourth grade/
i better see if psylocke could make the bed-rock/
called up bobby cy-clops is on the night-watch/
“beast after that sh-t happened you dare call?/
i left you with my lady and now she’s coughing up hairb-lls.”/
professor x i make a second escape/
read some minds and turn the grape seeds into grapes/
have you thinking you’re a fourth grade ballerina/
asking for shirley temples and sangrias at tipitinas/
mic damage, “rogue get the sutures!/
call up cable! homie take me to the future”/
“he’s stuck in traffic, but he’s on his way
plus the government said we can’t use no powers today”/
just a day in the life of a mutie/
pirates in america, diggin up booty/
“who dat in the ss?” “dang! its ya boy avalanche,/
paint body charcoal, seats like a creamy ranch/
“lets roll homie. take the high-road/
to pyro’s. i hear he’s cooking mc gyros/

[hook plays out]

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