Fur In My Cap
[Verse 1: Rob Roy]
Just a big boy with a big bike
And a big bitch with a big tight
Got my lips poked, 'cause I sip life
Tell me when to go, got to get this right
Well I finna know 'cause it look just like
Limpin' and inchin' as if as an infant
I'm distant, yet instant
Simultaneously - explain this to me
Maybe that's famous to be or
Maybe that ain't, but we'll see
Pick somethin', stick somethin' in it with the engine running
One hundred, two hundred
Three hundred miles on an empty stomach
I'm on it, been on it
Y'all just ain't in on it yet
Sho' nuff it's on the fence
Of the wrong home
If it's fixed or it fits
So hence, I'm exempt goin':
[Hook: Rob Roy]
Pussy in my lap
Bird in the sack
Fur in my cap
Fur, fur in my cap
Pussy in my lap
Bird in the sack
Fur in my cap
Fur, fur in my cap
Pussy in my lap
Bird in the sack
Fur in my cap
Fur, fur in my cap
Pussy in my lap
Bird in the sack
Fur in my cap
Fur, fur in my cap
[Verse 2: Rob Roy]
Exactly, go on and dap me
Whether that be at a track meet
Or actually, right here in back of me
If y'all catchin' the beat, then I'm glad to be-
Lieve in a thing called happenin'
But naturally, that ain't happily-
Ever-after, might last a week
In fact, it seems too fast to be
Bad to me, that could mean
One or two screws unfastening
That's blasphemy or fascinating
Depending on how I go about debating
It stands without sayin' - since I was finna
Not to be biased or the slightest sentimental
But if I ain't talkin' 'bout shootin' things you could think
I was shootin' blanks, 'til I sink in a little yelling:
[Hook: Rob Roy]
Pussy in my lap
Bird in the sack
Fur in my cap
Fur, fur in my cap
Pussy in my lap
Bird in the sack
Fur in my cap
Fur, fur in my cap
Pussy in my lap
Bird in the sack
Fur in my cap
Fur, fur in my cap
Pussy in my lap
Bird in the sack
Fur in my cap
Fur, fur in my cap
[Verse 3: Rob Roy]
I'm tryin' to told you
But y'all is getting older
And getting closer to never getting over -
While I keep on getting swoller
Pretty soon, I'll leave this boulder
While boasting my boldest blues
To boost me into an orbit
Forgin' the course of the future
As an institution of proven truth
Or at least its ruins
Until I'm ruined
Yet that's assumin' that my seam's undoin'
And while it seems inhuman
I do intend to pursue this end
As a means of tuning in through the lens
Of the newest trends
And I got that latest, latest
Tasteless made in my homeboy basement
With an 808 bass kick to fade
The whip into shades of make-up
For the sake of makin' a face
With a blanket statement
In place of a major facelift
In layman's terms
Let us learn by sayin':
[Hook: Rob Roy]
Pussy in my lap
Bird in the sack
Fur in my cap
Fur, fur in my cap
Pussy in my lap
Bird in the sack
Fur in my cap
Fur, fur in my cap
Pussy in my lap
Bird in the sack
Fur in my cap
Fur, fur in my cap
Pussy in my lap
Bird in the sack
Fur in my cap
Fur, fur in my cap