Lyrics:
Are you ready
Aye I'm a slime nothing less
Said she a slide
A. not to much I just want for the night
B. for the plan if you taking it right
C. that
about things that no longer even matter
Give two fucks bout a opinions I'm honored cus they seem flattered
20/20 vision I could see the b.s from a far
lived a country boy named Johnny B. Goode,
Who never ever learned to read or write so well
But he could play a guitar just like a ringin' a bell.
a country boy name of Johnny B. Goode
He never ever learned to read or write so well
But he could play a guitar just like a-ringing a bell
[Chorus]
Go,
inside the club
Do you really wanna thug or do ya want love?
She gets the paper when it's time to get it on
She keeps these clowns thinking like Jack B.
speak to me for days at a time
Oh baby, I know you're gettin' old
And your little temper b. won't really mind
Oh, we'll be sittin' close together
1. 2. 3. Do. Re. Mi.
Apa nak jadi
Alif.Ba. Ta. A. B. C.
Apa nak jadi
Akan terjadi
Hujan pasti berhenti
Ada masanya aku suka berteman
lived a country boy name of Johnny B. Goode...
He never ever learned to read or write so well,
But he could play the guitar like ringing a bell.
Go
Johnny B. Goode
Or he be gone yeah
The struggle goes on, you've been warned
PLO from here to Lebanon
How many bombs must we drop in the Ninety-Now
Walk
The shit with this bitch
Yo I said I'm calling you B.
Yo B it's the phone
Yo B.
"May I help you?"
"Yes what's your name?"
"Hello?"
"Hello
progress
I come in the tradition of
Harriet Tubman, Ida B. Wells, Ella Baker, and Angela Davis
Mixed with a little bit of Jada Pinkett Smith and Cardi B
inside the club
Do you really wanna thug or do ya want love?
She gets the paper when it's time to get it on
She keeps these clowns thinking like Jack B.
Now Peter Piper picked peppers, but Run rapped rhymes
Humpty Dumpty fell down, that's his hard time
Jack B. Nimble, what, nimble, and he was quick
a country boy named Johnny B. Good
Who never learned to read or write at all
But he could play the guitar just like ringing a bell
Go, go, go Johnny go, go,
the ghetto you never know,
When it's gon be yo time.
[Sons of Funk, Mo B. Dick, O'dell]
Sittin at the ghetto thinkin bout
All my homies passed away
sixteen he was stuntin'
Al B. Sure nigga with the hair all wavy
Hit Lake Shore, girls go all crazy
Hit the freeway, go at least 'bout eighty
Boned so
great thrill
I would set him in chains at the top of the hill
Then send out for some pillars and Cecil B. DeMille
He could die happily ever after
sixteen he was stuntin'
Al B. Sure nigga with the hair all wavy
Hit Lake Shore, girls go all crazy
Hit the freeway, go at least 'bout eighty
Boned so
great thrill
I would set him in chains at the top of the hill
Then send out for some pillars and Cecil B. DeMille
He could die happily ever after
great thrill
I would set him in chains at the top of the hill
Then send out for some pillars and Cecil B. DeMille
He could die happily ever after
made of earth and wood
Where lived a country boy named Johnny B. Goode
Who'd never ever learned to read or write so well
He could play a guitar just
a country boy named Johnny B. Goode
Who never ever learned to read or write so well
But he could play a guitar just like a-ringin' a bell
Go go
Go Johnny go
lived a country boy named Johnny B. Goode
Who never ever learned to read or write so well
But he could play a guitar just like a-ringing a bell
Go go
say the blind lead the blind.
But in the ghetto you never know
When it's gon be yo time.
[Sons of Funk Mo B. Dick O'dell]
Sittin
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