B-Boy Bouillabaisse: Dropping Names Lyrics

He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees a ghost
He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees a ghost
She's slipping through his fingers and she's moving out to the coast
He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees a ghost
Well if your world was all black, and then your world was all white
Well then you wouldn't get much color out of life now right?
I'm nicknamed Shamrock - well my name is not Sheamus
Girlies on the tippy cause my homey is famous
My name is not O'Houlahee, nor is it Bryan
If I said that I was weak man you know I'd be lyin

Suckers try to bite then they try to pursue it
Ya explain to a musician
Dem know it, but dem can't do it