Hoodie Allen Lyrics
Long Island Iced Tea Lyrics
She says, "We ain't 21 but we might be,"
Fresh in my Nikes, pass me the iced tea.
Go on girl, I know that you like me,
Don't need a wifey, just need me some iced tea.
They said, "Do you need to see ID?"
She said, "Likely."
Are you gonna leave with me?
Um, she might be.
Boyfriend, got a problem?
Then fight me.
One hand on his board and the other on my iced tea.
My Notre Dames fill up tanks to the gallon.
Go Jimmy Clausen, we be Hoodie Allen.
We be more Dawson's Creek, keep the ballad.
Tryna break up Katie Holmes's marriage.
(H-Hoodie Allen)
And you eating salad,
But we will be skating through.
I am Sydney Crosby,
You probably ain't made it dude.
And yeah I played a few women in my day, it's true.
Sega dream-cast up on their ass from they favorite dude.
I play Yahtzee on a yacht with your hot niece.
So if they ask me to change I tell them, "Hardly."
Part of me stuck going backwards like the car seat.
We just want a slutty broad,
You can call her Aubrey.
Auto-matically when we pull the wand out.
Man those Chevys made me pull a wine house.
Hoodie Allen underage
Now we stuck in time out.
A-yo let's vibe out.
Holla with these times out.
She says, "We ain't 21 but we might be,"
Fresh in my Nikes, pass me the iced tea.
Go on girl, I know that you like me,
Don't need a wifey, just need me some iced tea.
They said, "Do you need to see ID?"
She said, "Likely."
Are you gonna leave with me?
Um, she might be.
Boyfriend, got a problem?
Then fight me.
One hand on his board and the other on my iced tea.
Hoodie Allen, baby we been hot since the remix.
Bad ass wife wants Steve McQueen's shit.
Want to give these cougar woman something to believe in.
Tell her butter Witz snack.
You can call me Steven, leavin'.
In the morning, I be gone in 60 seconds.
Nick Cage, rib cage, on some big breast rested.
In stage high fade you can't afford our price man.
We so nice you getting kim bo slice fam'.
OB's the pilot, I just write the flight plan.
Never knew these white boys woulda got so height man, damn.
Jean Claude van suckers.
We write rhymes that make you shudder,
If I be, "oh believe it" - it flows like butter.
(Flows-flows-flows-flows-flows like butter, flows-flows like butter,
Butter!
Flows like butter, f-f-f*cking ask your mother)
'Cause she's cooking me dinner
And I think its supper.
What a predicament,
We get gooder in the summer.
So I just turn the radio up,
What a bummer.
She says, "We ain't 21 but we might be,"
Fresh in my Nikes, pass me the iced tea.
Go on girl, I know that you like me,
Don't need a wifey, just need me some iced tea.
They said, "Do you need to see ID?"
She said, "Likely."
Are you gonna leave with me?
Um, she might be.
Boyfriend, got a problem?
Then fight me.
One hand on his board and the other on my iced tea.
The other on my iced tea. [x4]