Lyrics:
And you know that the institute's debased
These motherfuckers can't believe their dumb luck
The fairytale keeps going
You keep lapping it up
Princes
Seagulls Over chimneys
Well then grab a book
Welcome welcome to our institute
Above the buildings shall they
Look for food
Welcome welcome to our
It was the first day of July
No wind breathed in the sky
When a pin-striped suit
Saw that the Institute of Mental Health was burning.
He stood
of the School
Of the Arts Institute of Chicago
And the Board of
Trustees of the Art Institute of Chicago
I now confer upon you the degree of Honorary
Doctorate
a few
So comprehend what imma give to you
Cause in an instant you
Can turn your hustle to an institute
I can’t stop
I’m on top
Because I’m ConventioNOT
Come on down t' the big dig
Come on down t' the big dig
Come on t' the big dig
Singin' the Smithsonian Institute blues
Singin' the Smithsonian
It was the first day of July,
No wind breathed in the sky
When a pin-striped suit
Saw that the Institute of Mental Health was burning
He stood
It was the first day of July;
no wind breathed in the sky
when a pin-striped suit
saw that the Institute of Mental Health was burning.
He stood upon
There's an institute in Chicago
With a room full of machines
And they live this side of the sunrise
And burn away your dreams
Once you fly to Chicago - In
Manfred Mann's Earth Band - Chicago Institute
Way back there an explosion of hope
Hit out hard in a furnace of steel
I thought life was a fire
I
Make a wish,
Make it hurt,
With my hand,
Up your skirt, tonight!
Signal-directional,
Institute-correctional,
File me alphabetical,
attended a hustler institute
What's slick to you?
I'm out here doin' my thang doin' , doin' what the real game spitters do
What's slick to you?
I'm highly
I chew
It's all I do, I do
You use and use fantasia truths
It soothes and toothes what's aching you
They point and shoot
An institute, they
How dumb of you to play by their rules
Four walls and the TV's the institute
Stop tryna tell me what I'm seeing isn't true
'Cause things aren't
My name is doctor Reginald Abraxis
And I am the founder of the Abraxis institute
I find it is all too common for
People to never realize their full
again I
Would have gone to the Art Institute
Over the American Academy of Art
I would have researched where I could have
Got the best and the strongest
most-influential cover and now
A doctorate at the
School of the Art institute of Chicago
When I was giving a lecture at
Oxford, I brought up this school
Because
with coco juice
Young brodie ain't gave a fuck bout no school or institute
AIL do is count them bucks when I'm in or I'm out of mood
Отымели шлюху,
still inside
The institute of me
There is a madness
A madness over me
What's wrong with me
It's just my head
Busted lines
All circuits are dead
There's
It's a breakout
At large
Wuhan
Institute of virology
It's uncontainable
My God
Brought to the streets
To the cars
To your mom and pops
To your doctors
Institute of the Placated Mind
Intoxicated typographer
Will speak and spell for a tithe
Urban landmine
Pay nullified
Institute of the placated mind
such a name
That an articled clerk I soon became;
I wore clean collars and a brand-new suit
For the pass examination at the Institute.
Chorus.
For
have with us Professor
Sir Cedric Pentingmode
Of the British Institute
And the professor is approaching
The saucer to see if there's
Possibly any
I'm not one to find love in a kissing booth
Industrial in the institute
One catch of never missing you
Pass, pass, pass, pass
She aimed her pistol
.jpg/300px-‘Rudo’_abre_los_ojos_en_el_Price_y_el_sonido_mexicano_invade_Veranos_de_la_Villa_(08).jpg "Mexican Institute of Sound")
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