Lyrics:
careful, that chick belongs to Smokey Joe"
'Till from behind the counter, I saw a man
A chef hat on his head and a knife in his hand
He grabbed me by
And the government itself is now a simple algorithm
I said Kirsten, hakuna matata, we ought to get our slippers
So we threw on a couple old kimonos and got in
of the bus
In my own coloured section
It's funny how's it cool now to sit and see a familiar direction
Coloured seats
Coloured seats
Coloured toilets
Blacks
deals so I'm a pa
Twenty G's on the chain and I'm still worth a couple blocks
It started in that temp, flippin' mids by them O-Z's
On the hill wit
nights at 11 p.m. Eastern and 10 p.m. Central[01:00.68]Look, here comes Jim now[01:03.26]3.45 in the morning, no sleep[01:05.60]Kick in your door around
jim
Wait a minute...i think I like that dance better than...
What are you talkin' about, creep?
What I'm talkin' about is you've been in this killer
past my prime
But pour some Jim Beam whiskey
And I’ll show you a real big time
You don’t need reservations
Drop by anytime
The sun is shinin’ in
cut, gleamin in the Benz truck, whattup
Tellin my mens what? Ten times platinum and we ends up
draped out, jumpin out a cake, now throw your tape
ain't nowhere that niggas can hide
Super high, baby girl I stay fly
Can I stop by at least one more time?
She said somehow she found peace in my
in a 25
The cops are driving by but I'm really really high
I fuck a bitch and i send her off
You fuck the same bitch and fell in love
I get the check
if I wouldn't see the next day
And so now Shergar pulls the milk float in the sunny afternoon
Said a man in Antrim, but what could he know?
A tale left
Bone hard nigga
Hoes be runnin from the scene
'Cause I'm out to demean, count the green
And throw that jim in the in between
Now Bun B moves slick
he's layin' in a ditch
Daily dug for himself
On his grave I had to piss
Scud missile never miss you
Hit you, scratch you off, we left Jim Star
Lets go, pour the milk in the bowl, make sure its ice cold,
Hold my hand on the top so it won't overflow.
Forget playing outside with my friends from
get back"
I helped win sweet victory
With my little plough and hoe
Now, I want you to tell me brother
What you gonna do about the old Jim Crow?
be the Attract
Holding down we gone live it up
Focused now never giving up
Getting older now nothing holding us
Keep going
Waking in the morning got me
of my shoes
They too timid to even make it a single minute
I was molded by the pain
Shit, I'm Bane, I was raised in it
You and me are not the same
I was
Aynsley Dunbar (drums)
Jim Pons (bass, vocals, dialog)
Bob Harris (keyboards, vocals)
Don Preston (mini-moog)
What's a girl like you
Doin' in a place like
I just want the money feel like Mr. Krabs
Smoking on Ms. Simpson feel like Homer
Smack em with da tec he in a coma
Imma get this money by my loner
Came walkin' on in through the door
At least I'd never saw her down at Smokey Joe's Café
And I started shakin' when she sat right now next to me
Her
I don't know why it gets me down, when you sell ignorance by the pound,
The mother of the sacred cow, will take you on right here and now.
And if
Renaissance razah Rubies let's go, tell 'em
I was born in the era of kings
Of heroin dreams
Now it be a Maccabees, spreading my wings
(spread 'em)
I
B. song
I maul fifty MC's, divided just by one
Now who's the greatest motherfucker other than myself?
Droppin' lyrical vitamins for your health,
come from, gettin' visual is habitual
De-mon-strate walkin' on hot coal, in rituals
I splash the paint on the wall, it formed the mural
He took
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