Now anywhere me go, the people *** tell me for guanSo right now pass up on time, come for nice up the lawnWith the music I think ofGuan, it name Guan, GuanGuan, Guan, Guan, Guan, Guan, GuanIt name Guan, G-W-A-R-N spells GuanS-T-O-R-M spells StormAfter a storm, there must be a C-A-L-MSecu-secu-li name comeCool as a cucumber when me add a micStand up the lead drummer and put the mic in me palmLyrics choo-chooCome out like locomotionGive the people versatility enough cautionWhen they love it they show appreciationAll the women start to R-U-S-H, I'm manAnd all of me brethren are tell me forJust, just, just, just, just, just, justKwan, Kwan, Kwan, Kwan, Kwan, Kwan, Kwan, Kwan, Kwan, it name KwanA side a vocal, B side a version, hear the booth through the, they say this through the hornSound is not a sound without a midsection, like a house is not a home without a televisionIf you don't believe me, ask my woman, she will tell you when me, mash up the telly when meMash up the telly when me, mash up the televisionIt's like the old house was in contention, the kids were giving me a lot of adorationBallin' wah, wah, wah, wanna see Batman, A-Team, Danger Mouse and He-ManThere was only one way I could solve the problem, we tried to catch a taxi, daughter re-diffusionRent a telly, take it home and plug it in and turn it downWhen my woman see the telly, she say, honey, you be just, just, just, just, just, just, justOne, oneOne, oneOne, oneFlash itOne, oneOne, oneOne, oneIt ain't KwanMe mami show me lovin from the day that me bornFill me belly clean me body wrap me up give me warmShe open up the Bible c'on the 23rd PsalmLet put it in my cart for sureSpiritual protectionMe mami raised the babiesMy daddy raisedM-O-N-E-YMy daddy raised cornI got different junior secondary educationThat expelled in the fourthNever took an examTried a couple jobsBut them never last longOne day me mami asked me this one questionWhy we have to doWhen you turn a big manShe said mami you pay listenAnd don't get me wrongI'm not gonna be a worker or a politicianI'll be a MC, a singerAnd nice of the landShe smiled, she kissed meShe wrapped me in her armsShe said if that's what you want me to doThen why if itJust, just, just, just, just, just, justGuan, Guan, GuanGuan, Guan, GuanGuan, Guan, GuanHe named GuanA MC's not a button without style and patternTo get an answer you have to ask a questionWhat is Pato Migol's name?OriginationAround the microphone me have presentationMe have more lyric than desert of sandMore lyric than water in the MediterraneanMore lyric than fish in the wide oceanPato lyric on a scale must weigh a tonThis is a fact and not fictionWith me it be a little exaggerationEvery mickle make a muckleEvery muckle make a micklePupa, pato, a principleRide bicycle, not tricycleUgly woman you feel sickle?When I want no girl with freckleNo a girl that miserableFor that would be so terribleAnd to judge her I am faithfulThanks and praise they are essentialI'm the devil, I am carefulCause I know he is so evilA lot of racial people they give praises to the devilAnd even have a ritualAnd to judge that is a bumbleBefore me come a danceA man that's strictly right, that's horriblePull it up and down with the brushWith the teeth to make them look beautifulA little bit of honeyTo fix up a house vocalThen slap to the danceTo jump from crossAnd wiggle and jiggle and wiggle and jiggleAnd wiggle and jiggle and wiggle and jiggleAnd wiggle and jiggle and danceWhen the people see meDance them a tell me fiJust, just, just, just, just, just, justGuan, GuanGuan, GuanGuan, GuanGo there!Guan, GuanFlash it!Guan, GuanThis is Guan