Now anywhere me go, the people *** tell me for guanSo right now pass up on time, come for nice off the lawnWith the music I think ofGuan, it name Guan, GuanGuan, GuanGuan, GuanGuan, 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-MCircle, circle, it name comeCool as a cucumber when me at the micStand up the lead drummer and put the mic in me palmLyric choo-chooCome out like locomotionGive the people versatility enough portionWhen they love it, they show appreciationAll the women start to R-U-S-H, I'm onAnd all of me brethren are tell me forJust, just, just, just, just, justJust, just, just, just, just, justGuan, GuanGuan, GuanGuan, GuanGuan, GuanIt name GuanA side of vocal, B side of versionHear the booth through the bass, the desks through the hornSound is not a sound without a midsectionLike a house is not a home without a televisionIf you don't believe me, ask my womanShe would tell you when meMash up the telly when meMash up the telly when meMash up the telly when meTelevision, it's like the old house was in contentionThe kids were giving me a lot of adorationBallin', wah, wah, wah, wanna see Batman18, Danger Mouse and He-ManThere was only one way I could solve the problemWhich was 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 beJust, just, just, just, just, just, justOne, one, one, one, one, oneOne, one, one, one, one, oneIt ain't oneMe mommy show me lovin' from the day that me bornFill me belly, clean me body, wrap me up, give me warmShe open up the Bible,ponder 23rd PsalmThen put it in my cup for spiritual protectionMe mommy raise the babies my daddy raisedM-O-N-E, why my daddy raise corn?I got different junior, secondary educationGot expelled in the fourth, never took an examTried a couple jobs, but them never last longOne day me mommy ask me this one questionWhy we have a door when you turn a big man?She say, mommy, you pay listen and don't get me wrongI'm not gonna be a worker or a politicianI'll be a MCI'll be a MCI'll be a singer and nice off the landShe smile, she kiss me, she wrap me in her armsShe say, daddy, what we do?Them boy, if we just, just, just, just, just, just, justOne, one, one, one, one, one, oneOne, one, one, one, one, one, oneMC's not a button without style and patternMC's not a button without style and patternTo get an answer, you have to ask a questionWhat is Pato Miguel'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 micklePupapato a principleRide bicycle, not tricycleUgly woman, you fecicleYou no want no girl with freckleNo regal that miserableFor that would be so terribleAnd to judge her, I am faithfulThanks and praise, they are essentialI'm the devil, I am capableCause I know he is so evilLittle lot of racial peopleThey give praises to the devilAnd even have a ritualAnd to judge that is a bumbleBut before me come a danceA man that's strictly right, that's horribleWell, I open the door with the brushWith the teeth to make them look beautifulA little bit of honeyTo fix up a house vowelThen slap to the danceTo jump from cross and wiggle and jiggleAnd wiggle and jiggleAnd wiggle and jiggleAnd wiggle and jiggleAnd wiggle and jiggleAnd wiggle and jiggleWhen the people see me danceThey might tell me feJuss, juss, juss, juss, juss, juss, jussJuss, juss, jussGuhan, guhanGuhan, guhanGuhan, guhanGuhan, guhanFlash itGuhan, guhan