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Gas:
Pete Gas blazing on the scene
Smooth as silk, peaches and cream
Raps the stuff of school girl dreams
Cover of all magazines
Dub:
Watch Pete Gas run up the stairs
Discman set on Yellow Squares
Not fazed by the people's stares
Flips the bird, who fuggin' cares?
Pete Gas he don't put on airs
Never truth, always takes dares
Come in close, show you the wares
Steak is rare and fruit is pears
Gas;
I'm the best you ever seen
Bod is lean and 'tude is mean
Hot ass teens at Dairy Queen
Can't take their eyes off of me
Gas;
Can't wait to go to the fair
Only time I leave my lair
Drive so hard I'm grinding gears
Craving for elephant ears
Ladies see me and they beam
Smile so wide it almost gleams
Bouncy busting at the seams
Gas' cheerleaders' scream "Go Team!"
Dub:
Gas flies blazing from the south
Donut powder frames his mouth
Hot and smooth like sweet "vermouth"
Snatch your brain like cat does mouse
Haters find they're not so tough
Stay down if you've had enough
Candy in his pocket stuffed
Pete Gas takes no fuggin' guff
Gas:
Almost Halloween, so BOO!
How you like my '50s do?
Put in two palms full of goo
Make the foxy kittens mew
Crusin' down the avenue
Taking my girl to the zoo
Get into my face, say "Ew"
That's a stunt you're gonna rue
Dub:
Sunny state with nil for smog
Picked a fight with Doldo's dog
Burly brawn your mind to fog
Light my man another crog
Gas:
Blazing beats, the tie that binds
Only time that I feel fine
You can keep that daily grind
Bitch and moan, complain and wine
Taking Suzie out to dine
Arm around her in due time
Smokin' hot, dressed to the nines
Kiss goodnight and now she's mine
Dub:
Breaking through and breaking out
First a scowl, then a pout
Don't drink porter, don't drink stout
Cross his path, go'n punch you out
Gas:
Spar and me and you'll regret
You're boo and I will tête-à-tête
I'll get that girl all soaking wet
Grape-Aid for two and you go fetch!
She's gonna smile and then she'll pout
This Date will surely give me clout
You best go turn those lights right out
Think you know what I'm talkin' 'bout
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Gas:
I'm Pete Gas, and I got no class
Got a big fat ass, drinkin' sassafras
I'm Pete Gas; I can get real crass
When I'm fishing bass or I'm mowing grass
Dub:
Here's Pete Gas in the south of France
Does a little dance, puts you in a trance
Watch Pete Gas if you get the chance
Going on his rants about shorts and pants
Gas:
I'm Pete Gas, rap like Mama Cass
And I drive real fast, can't be late for mass
I'm Pete Gas, don't give me no sass
When I make a pass at a schoolgirl lass
Dub:
Here's Pete Gas on a stool or chair
When he combs his hair, don't you drool and stair
Watch Pete Gas crunchin' Cape Cod chips
Packin' heat and clips, give the man no lip
Here's Pete Gas dancing on the floor
With a wild boar, rabid to the core
Watch Pete Gas as he tries to gore
Listen to him roar, makes it have seizures
See Pete Gas and the shirt he tore
Trying hard to score with the girl next door
All is fair in both love and war
Feel the passion soar, sweatin' from their pores
Gas:
Pete Gas raps like the days of yore
Never short and sweet, gives what you paid for
Smooth as silk like a hottie lure
Poundin' on the door, let 'em in for sure
Watch Pete Gas as he starts to poor
Grape-Aid stuff of lore, want a little more?
Back again dancing on the floor
With a wild boar, break it down hardcore
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Gas:
Rappin' like you won't believe
Verse so good you can't conceive
Take a break to sip my tea
Beats flow through me like a sieve
Pete Gas blazin' with his crew
Nothing left for you to do
Bust a rhyme and I'll bust two
This ain't all: I got a few
Dub:
Frustrate you so you will leave
Rile you up, get you so peaved
Talkin' smack, tall tales you weave
Who's the greatest? Go ask Jeeves
Gas:
Pete Gas with a whole new hue
Makes you run off to the loo
All the foxy kittens mew
Gas turns this place to a zoo
Why must I be so damn emo?
Don't know another path to go
Just kneading on this sour dough
No Splenda here it's Sweet N' Low
Dub:
Runnin' lights through your home town
Write your daughter's number down
Check it fool, my nose ain't brown
Detention when the school bell sounds
Gas:
Keep rockin' out to my slick beats
This burger's rare, turn up the heat
Keep bugs off us by sprayin' Deet
And walk in the grass with bare feet
Dub:
Crash this party on the fly
Grill smoke churnin', burnin' high
Raise the brows and hear a sigh
This sure beats fat Frank's fish fry
Gas:
If cute girls make you holler "woah"
Pass the slaw down to the back row
Best in the world, you know it's so
Make all the ladies scream "Oh, oh!"
Dub:
Potato salad spiced to taste
Marinade's a mesquite base
We're short on punch, so do make haste
And use the barrel for all waste
Gas:
The ribs are sweet, plus slaw and beans
And always leave room for poutine
Make sure those fockin' hands are clean
Adults in front, in back go tweens
Push over son, give me a seat
It's time for me to meet n' greet
Kids are playing hide and seek
This 'cue's the best you ever seen
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Dub:
Pete Gas used to be real fat
Eating ice cream by the vat
Sweet and salty this and that
Couldn't reach around to scratch
Brand new threads Pete Gas will don
Every cheerleader will fawn
Fanning Gas with huge palm fronds
Feed him grapes 'til they're all gone
Smooth as silk like Goldie Hawn
Catching rays out on the lawn
Keep it real like Clu from 'Tron'
Send your weak rhymes to the pawn
Gas:
Girlies scream when they see rats
Where the hell's that g**damn cat?
Hand me my new baseball bat
Could get messy, y'all stand back
Dub:
Pete Gas wearing the rap hat
Shirt torn off to show his lats
Spar with him, go tit for tat
Knock you out, down to the mat
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Gas:
"Stop that duck!" yelling from a truck
You were mad as ----, having real bad luck
Pete Gas knows he can't pass the buck
So he up and hucks all his hockey pucks
Dub:
Watch that bird get all starry-eyed,
Knows it's piper-pied with the turning tides
In Pete Gas that duck will confide,
But he's telling lies, got no alibi
Gas:
You'll deny, but your a** I'll ride
'Til we make some strides on this great divide
Tan your hide until you abide
Coming from both sides like Kentucky Fried
Dub:
You know this makes me say "yuck"
I should throw you in the muck
Givin' me nothing but guff
Gotta say it, bird-- you suck
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Gas:
Ziggy Zane says I'm hella vain
But he can't contain all his jealous rage
Says I'm lame, just straight up insane
But I see his pain when I comb my mane
Dub:
Ziggy Zane is just a boy
Acting like he's so annoyed
Grabs the hand of his friend Roy
Feed each other Chips Ahoy
Getting all up in my face
You're the chump I'm gonna waste
Once I open my suitcase
Get to stepping, best make haste
So let that hater act so coy
Eating poi with sauce of soy
Just an establishment toy
Watching his rage gives me joy
Gas:
Attitude you better brace
Don't make me break out my mace
Time for chase, pick up your pace
This is one race you won't place
Dub:
See the shock he tries to feign
No comeback-- he must refrain
Rhymes and beats so hella tame
Should be selling weather vanes
Gas:
That's right, Zig, I said that, main
All your pompous rhymes will wane
Beat your a** with rusty chain
Leave you wrecked: "have a Great Dane!"
Dub: You better check yo'
Gas: self
Dub: Before I wreck yo'
Gas: self
Dub: When I grab my
Gas: belt
Dub: Gonna leave you
Gas: welts
Dub: Such a little
Gas: elf
Dub: Best go run get
Gas: help
Dub: But if I hear you
Gas: tell
Dub: Damn right there'll be
Gas: hell
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Gas:
Full of lies, you're just a con
Name's Pete Gas-- don't call me "son"
Take your weak rhymes to the pawn
Use the cash to shop at Von's
Gas gives into his cravings
Rants out here and there raving
House is full of wood shavings
People drive by, all waving
Dub:
Underlined, italic bold
Splitting Guinness, blazing gold
Climbing up to break the mold
Shipping platinum: all sold
Gas:
Pete Gas yelling to come on
Drinking Summer Explosion*
Cruising down the Autobahn
Out the window throws lemons
Driveway Pete Gas is paving
Keeps more funds in his savings
Concrete will prevent caving
Ain't worried about a thing
Dub:
Rolling records bear no dust
Spit-shine chrome, too fast for rust
Playback, green back, Gas we trust
When Pete Gas parties, we too must
Gas:
Not a fan of Jam or WHAM!
Makes me think of Vietnam
Last line will start up a ban
Censors backed by Uncle Sam
Go ahead to cuff and stuff
Least I'm getting off my duff
Punk a** can't stop talking tough
You don't wanna give me guff
Spraying my cookware with Pam
Smoke will rise-- turn on the fan
Soon as you open that can,
We'll all be knee-deep in yams
Eating lean'll keep you buff
No peanut butter and fluff
I've huffed and puffed-- Enuff Z'nuff
And don't you dare call me cream puff
=======
*PETE GAS LEMON LIME SUMMERTIME EXPLOSION
You will need:
diet Coke
diet Sprite
Lemon Lime Seltzer water
one lemon
one lime
Mix diet Coke, diet Sprite, and seltzer water (4oz. each), then gently squeeze lemon FIRST, then lime, and stir the whole thing up. Enjoy!
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Gas:
You know Drew, he don't know jack
'Cause Drew don't know how to rap
But keep that behind his back
Or you'll surely get a smack
Dub:
See my rhymes called into question
The minority's contesting
Step up sir, fill in the test and
Looks like you've been naught but jesting
Gas:
Don't be calling me no hack
Give me time-- I'll get the knack
What you seek is what you lack
Send you home where you can pack
Dub:
Don't you blink or you'll be missing
Gas got class or only dissing
Know he's floundering if he's fishing
Straight 'game over': restart mission
Gas:
Never checking out the racks
Son, I've just got too much tact
But won't hesitate to mack
And you know that's just a fact
Dub:
Dub got clout, Dub got the vision
Cursive, chorus, long division
Good results trump good intentions
Didn't you major in detention?
Gas:
Heard you calling this rap wack
Why you gotta go attack?
Gonna bring a money sack
Get a cake for Jen and Zac
Dub:
These ambiguous depictions
Who knows fact from Pete Gas' fiction
Dub came solid, shots were swishing
You the dopest? Keep on wishing
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Gas:
Change up the beat, gotta break it down slow
No time for weak rhymes, least not anymore
Come over later, just bought new Play-Doh
Molding skills make all the hot teens say "woah"
Don't misconstrue that last line for conceit
I'll get to the point-- try to make this contrite
Rhymes so damn smooth like milk straight from cow's teat
Get you so excited, wet all on your seat
Back to the point, gotta reap what I sow
Showing up every Tom, Billy, or Joe
Speaking of which, I'll take two Sweet N' Low
Rap's so damn tiring, you don't even know
Guessing it's time for me to go retreat
Feels like I'm slipping or losing the beat
Hankering for some soup with broth of leek
Crepes for dessert, man that would be a feat
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Holla if you hear me, yo
Can you feel me flow?
When I rock the mic, everybody knows
They're in for a show-- you can lock the doors
No one here will go 'til my final bow
Turnin' up the heat, all the ladies swarm
Can't be beat-- now they're getting warm
You'll admit defeat when they're in my arms
Melting like ice cream-- can't resist my charms
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11. |
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12. |
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Clocking, rocking, yap it like Gus Bunny
When I guts the Gas like a deer, you know it's money
I lay back in rewind, get jacked it, stack it
Upturned and rhyme on the bass line--
Like you can hack it!
How can I read the post?
And how should I break Biscotti like burnt toast?
New originals, straight bologna-free
As I torch down... just about everyone on the VSE
'Nother seismic sideshow 'neath the limbo bar
Doctor Dot duking you a proud new scar
If the catering staff forgot the cigars,
It's the Times for their hides by the girl named Har'
To the fruit punch pool:
I take .spike., Pluto, Excite Bike, but Frank's too cool
Tell you the true, there's Charleston Chew
And Boston cremes too-- it's always a zoo
But your switch-flip "so pissed" hit your fits, never missed
With the whitey dot Gas dot in the midst
So don't approach the stage! We're your one-stop sage
When we're penning every page in a blind a** rage
Sir, it's sizzling hot as I take it to the bank
Doctor Dub is on the pulpit, 'bout as dizzy as Frank Doldo
Dorito: break a bag in the nick
And let me cut your floors good with a pogo stick slick
Sir, I'm summering-- slumbering in the Keys
And stumbling out the hammock with the canned squeeze cheese
I got a torn script for your inbox, Gas
aiming rotten eggs at your secretary's ass
You tried to chase .spike. up the turnpike on a red trike
He's his own mic... (urban coloquialism)
You can't reach my dfontd, so make some quote signs
And tell it to Biscotti
Got my back yearly at the BTV
Hit up Dunkin' D for some Bean Town C's
You can't sway the D-U-single B, except with waffles and cheese
I'm filming all, billing Charles by noon
Flips a table, storms off-- back soon
Ding dongs, Ho-ho's, slide 'em over, sir, cause no:
Doc Dub don't do Atkins-- let's go to Quizno's.
I'm somewhat sugar-frazzled
So I tighten up my goggles, hit the stage and get you dazzled
Machete, may I let me get so petty? Turn maroon
Don't you waste my game with no melted macaroon
Box of burritos through my glove compartment door
Dub unlim' flipping crogs and stuffing marshmallow
I bitch every day, you know I snitch every day
With the a.g VSE .spike. Harley Hil Machete
"Ee-hee!" "Abluh!" "Shut up!", like the post said, sir
Blaze on the lights and let me make the crowd purr
I got a little cousin by the name of Cherry
Who's a noble sadist eye-poke like Moe does Larry
'Cause you know about the sketch that we be stalling through
And you be yawn about the thread that we be typing up
And you be thundering about the ---- we spout when it gets dark
'Cause Doc Dub is slip-sharp like a sturgeon
The version you hear from dot Gas dot
May be less than spit-spot
Get with the D busy flickering in your eye sockets
Know I'm on the rocket fuel-- I kick it like the burro, fool
Sure as Frank D going act like a tool
You don't read the post you solicit,
So fire the italics typist-- lick it!
The VSE gonna wound and salt 'em, done and done
P-E-T-E Gas the temperless one
I'm Doctor dot W, thrill haze, the crowd's blazing
Shut the show down-- who ever heard of crullers with raisins?
I'm unstrapping-- call an end to the rollerskating
Tell Estelle and Giovanni to phone me, and my rider's not a phony
And wise-a** Dr. Phil:
We best take a weekend retreat coop to fell-swoop them bitter pills
So we be flipping tables, sure
Storms out, slams, shout
Don't accuse of being stable, sir
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Pause here to undo my belt
Gorge myself on chocolate gelt
Now my diet's full of kelp
So the scales no longer tilt
Girlies all check out my delts
Hardest rock they've ever felt
Flex my guns, I'll make 'em melt
Hot and bothered to the hilt
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Pete Gas is not a rapper. He is not your financier. Let us be perfectly clear that Pete Gas is *not* a marmoset. Let's put an end to those rumors for good.
Instead, Pete Gas is a hypochondriac, hemophiliac, neurotic, quixotic, mechanic, bananic, rough and tumble SOB straight out of O-Town F- to the- L- to the- A, who will turn on you in a heartbeat, then tearfully explain to the press how he was loyal to the bitter end, "and no one even cared! No one even cared!"
Pete Gas is not on trial here.
released October 25, 2011
Produced by andre "Doctor Dub" .W
Pete Gas: vocals, beat box, snaps
Doctor Dub: vocals, programming, bass, guitars, beat box, snaps
all songs written by Pete Gas and Doctor Dub except "Emo King", and "Holla If You Hear Me, Yo" by Pete Gas; and "Da Showznit": music by Snoop Doggy Dogg, lyrics by Doctor Dub.
recorded at A9 Studio Labor Day 2007 (Instigation session) and Flay-10 Studio Labor Day 2008 (Audacity Session).
all beats generated by andre.W, using highly confidential technology. Seriously. Not even his mom knows about it. For realsies n' stuff. So stop being so frickin' nosy. Gawd! >:-|
"Holla If You Hear Me, Yo," features beat box a-cappela by a.&.g, the likes of which you have never heard. Admit it.
Chips Ahoy are a registered trademark... and really good with a cold glass of milk. Am I right? I mean, am I right? Am I... oh. Oh, sorry.
PETE GAS WISHES TO THANK:
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andre.W, A-9 Studio, candyhammer lo-fi, KFS, Frank, Pluto, my precious little angel *chelz,* Amber, Betty Machette, Dottie Biscotti, Excite Bike, Crimson Beneficiaries, One Gun, andre.W and the .gas. Variety Show Espectaculaire, the "harley and the Frank" show, .spike., harley, Team Vampire, the "Pluto and the .spike." show, MySpace, Facebook, Bob Hazen, the crazy lady who thought she saw Bigfoot, some chick and her mom, Ding-Dongs®, Ho-Hos®, cruellers, blueberry fritters, baked goods in general, your mom (yeah! ur mom! lol) ...and the great cosmos, for blessing him with a gift of rhyme so sick, it truly should be illegal (oh, snap!). I mean, really. He's just saying here...
HOLLA!
.gas. '09
KFS appears courtesy of "Pete Gas Sux Ass Productions®," which is soley responsible for his juvenile display of... um... juvenile things.
andre.W appears courtesy of candyhammer. also, andre.W and the .gas.
oh, cram it. nobody said I had to just put down one thing. (*flips table, storms off)
Some rights reserved. Please refer to individual track pages for license info.