Happy Chachi - Lee Scott

Neighbours screamin' blaspheme

Interruptin' me reocurrin' Cameron Diaz in a mask dream

I circle the room and double back, — to me reflection like

«What you lookin' at?»

That’s enough of that

I put a bat through the fatback Atachi

Now I’m a regular Happy Chachi

Like itchy when he’s swattin' scratchy

Destruction soothes the soul like Apache chance

Grab a branch and you might survive the avalanche

While I sit back and plot like a masked mastervillain

In the wrong house, flat, mansion

Chillin' til I’m rich, in the ritz

With a bollywood bitch gettin' blitzed

Til' I look like hollywood skits

Bada Boom, Bada Bing

The cold sagger king

With rum in me can of Ting

Don’t ask me for a thing

Or it might become nasty

I bitch slapped those meddlin' kids when they unmasked me, classy

I fuck forty hoes, then pause to pose and ash me Camel Light

And grab the mic like rap’s Marshall Applewhite

All praises to the cult

I’m a slender Herculean figure with a face you wanna sculpt

Baby, let’s climb up on the roof and fly

You can’t spell suicide without «U» and «I»

I’d hop into me coffin, but I’m waitin' for me suit to dry and I need to choose

a tie

Return of the

Lookin' sharp hoppin' in in a comfortable Clarks moccasin shoe

What can you do?

It might mean somethin' to them but, nothin' to you

Like «Where do I have to pillage to be the man?»

A dove escaped from me pocket and flew into the ceilin' fan

And apart from the feathers and blood on me vintage 19th century rug,

everything’s good

It’s all sound 'ere

Everything’s laughin' round 'ere

It’s all sound 'ere

Cactus Owl, everything’s laughin' round 'ere