HAPPY FREAKIN' BIRTHDAY, JAKE SANDERS!
You've been alive for 22 whole years. Congratulations. I
think that's pretty dang awesome.
I know it's not much, but here are a few words in relation
to what may appear, on the surface, to be a slightly lame birthday present.
1) I apologize for
the quality. This is what happens when your webcam sucks and your video camera was made in 1999.
2) I practiced for a
solid two weeks to get these lyrics down cold. Rap is hard.
3) It may be
necessary to imagine the countless times I listened to this song on repeat at
work, reciting the lyrics under my breath much to the astonishment and
borderline repugnance of my coworkers.
4) No cue cards or
other such nonsense were used in the making of this video. If you doubt me, I’d
be happy to give an in-person encore performance. These lyrics may never fully
leave my brain.
5) I had to get creative when it came to the
unintelligible bits and the last verse wasn’t even online so that got extra
creative. Here’s a link to the original song (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0jSzlA8sEHE) so you can check my accuracy or lack thereof.
Lastly, I’ve included my lyrics below in case the video quality
is too poor or my rap skills are too off-the-chain for you to fully understand
them.
I love you so very much and I hope this silliness adds to
what I’m sure will be a birthday to remember. You are wonderful in so many
ways, Jake Sanders. Please stay that way. Happy, Happy, Happy Birthday.
Birthday
Flo Rida ft. Rick Ross
CHORUS
You don’t want no cake on your birthday
You want your cake every day, every day, every day, every
day
You don’t want no cake on your birthday
You want your cake every day.
VERSE 1
I’m gonna be honest, tomorrow ain’t promised, that’s why I
say this
Here today, then you gone, like renting a car from Avis
Hurts, but it’s the truth
You die but not that Mercedes
That’s why you be on point, you never procrastinating
You better be dodging Satan
That pussy n***** be hating
Want his cake and eat it, too, then do you greasy like bacon
Every day money chasing, you’re so in love with the
fragrance
So what? You’re a little impatient, but dope man ain’t got
no patience
Boy you feel like you’re racing before you become a raisin
Want strippers hotter than Cajun
Your deli be in rotation
Your daily birthday occasion
You’re rarely off of vacation
You’re barely on in the nation
And Nelly dollars in raking?
to CHORUS
VERSE 2
I ain’t talking next year
I ain’t talking in a month
I ain’t talking in a week
Every day you want a stunt
Every day you want some candles
Every day a million bucks
Every day pull up in lambos, fillet mignon for lunch
Where your birthday?
You got your birthday?
When you’re birthday?
You better say your birthday
You get emotional, that’s what C notes’ll do
Them penny loafer shoes help you cop a Bentley Coup
Now your string of women more hotter than Campbell’s soup
Boy, that cake will make them priests turn to animals
You’re King Kong, and it’s our training day
Denzel with the ice and you’re pushing weight
I ain’t trying to wave ‘em off
I ain’t trying to downplay
But if Biggie got a wife, she ain’t with him, not a day
Ain’t nobody here to stay
You can try to get away
Imma bounce that n***** prey
My advice still the same
to CHORUS
VERSE 3
You’re Mr. Birthday Man
You will milk that, man
Better alert that man
I will hurt that man
Tell ‘em
They don’t want you to go outside
Won't hear your running, no, no, no, no
Home of the birthday episode
Gotta make a wish before your hear them blow
It’s a pretty pic, keeping it G, go
Sitting there just thinking all about that dough
They think they’re bigger than you?
You get Ghost Busters
Suckers, the fuckers, seductors
We squeezing chiggers like mustard all on them, dog
Say something might get ‘em lost
These repercussions don’t talk, boss
to CHORUS
