1980 lyrics by Dirt Nasty - original song full text. Official 1980 lyrics, 2024 version | LyricsMode.com
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Dirt Nasty – 1980 lyrics
All these other prophets
These are the chosen few
These are the selected youth
These are the ones that shine upon thine meridian
With a 4th level of Gondor
I am a metaphysical visionary
Third chapter dimensions
Castle of corgi
I see darkness
Intertwine my mind upon thy 9 caliber
Russian roulette stamina
Tylenol flip the fast track of
The anomaly that's preposterous
Stop
My words are better verbs towards the
Stop

Shut the fuck up man, what's wrong with you?
Nothing man, you know? I been doing good. Quit smoking weed, y'know, I've been doin some yoga, little pilates, just getting more in tune with myself, you know, getting in touch with mind, spirit, and body...

You sound like a little bitch. Take a hit of this, and kick that old Dirt Nasty shit about gettin' yo dick sucked.

I got a gold chain
I'm on cocaine
I'm like yo mane
I rolled in, straight from Oakland
Holding my dick like a us Open Trophy
Word up to hyphy, y'all don't know me - Dirt Nasty

Asscheecks spread wide
G-string, to the side
1 drink, courvoisier
2 drinks, vodka straight
3 drink, I'm in the sink
Throwin up on my brand new mink
Coat, and I'm doing coke
Y'all can't hold my donkey rope (nope)

Call the pope, pray for me
Gold Rolls Royce with ya lady (ding)
I lived through the 80s, and shit was crazy
Everybody wanna know my name, bring the pain and pop the champagne
Every girl wanna hold my chain when I fuck their brains out on the Mustang

I got a gold chain
Like it was 1980
I'm on cocaine
Like it was 1980
I'm like yo mane
Like it was 1980

It sure don't seem that way to me, and tell your girl to stop page me

I rolled in, stoned as hell
White lines, gold gazelles
Hotel on Sunset
Young hos get undressed (you bet)
Dirt dick ain't done yet
Insert the clip and get the gun wet

'Nuff said, I'm radical
T-shirt say 'party animal' (rawr)
I ain't no amateur
This ain't no Hands Across America

I shine like Morrisey on Hennesey on x-mas eve (no)
No more like Morris Day on hella yay dressing gay (ding)

I lived through the 80s, and shit was crazy
Everybody want to know my name, bring the pain and pop the champagne
Every girl wanna hold my chain when I fuck their brains out on the Mustang

I got a gold chain
Like it was 1980
I'm on cocaine
Like it was 1980
I'm like yo mane
Like it was 1980

It sure don't seem that way to me, and tell your girl to stop page me.

I got
Like it was 1980
I got a gold chain
Like it was 1980
I got a gold chain
Like it was 1980
Gold chain
Like it was 1980

It sure don't seem that way to me, and tell your girl to stop page me
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Lyrics taken from /lyrics/d/dirt_nasty/1980.html

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Corrected by tmacabroad

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