Stoney Bologne

Yo what's up
1 Trait Danger
Obama
Yo

Stoney Bologne
They make me like Omi
Take me down to your rocks like a homie
Yo, what up
My name is Stan, actually
I just made that shit up
My name ain't Stoney Bologne
You don't know me
You ain't my homie
Blow me (uh)

I was riding my bike after school
Some fuckin' fool pushed me into the pool
As I got out I said: What the fuck, I just bought this iPhone, man, that's fucked up

I'm not a hip hop artist

So what if I'm a little slower
My IQ's low and my grades are lower
All the kids in class called me ass
Face mask and face fast
They're really mean, man!

Like this kid named Dan
Who rolls me down the street in a trash can
He loves it when he beats my fuckin' ass, man
He loves it when he kicks my face
Kicks my kicks
Sprays me with mace
He's armed, man
He's got guns and shit
And throwing stars, Dan
Dan's a motherfucker
This song's for you, Dan
I remember you, dude
So when I'm sitting in a trash can
Thinking about my life
Thinking why am I here, man?
This kid rolls up
And he leans down, he says one thing, he says
You're Stoney Bologne
No one thinks you're cool
You're phony, you're lame, and no one likes your drool
Wipe that shit off, man
And he threw a towel right on my head

But then there's Katherine in math class, she loves to snap back
When the teacher talks crap like a knapsack
Skins 'em like a heavy load of old fatback
Cause she knows how to rap like a rap track
Yap yap, take em on a trap, yap
Heavy metal isn't dead, it's in my backpack

If you've ever been bullied in school, bro
Just remember Stoney's got your back, bro
Don't fuck with the Stoney crew
Cause if you do, the Stoney dudes will fuck you
Fuck you
Fuck you