Lyrics:
friend
If you stand on the corner
You might see him pass right by
Jumpin' Joe, Jumpin' Joe
Jumpin' Joe, Jumpin' Joe
Dolce suit and a Gucci tie
Golden
Senior Constable George Devine had been sleeping soundly when he was suddenly
woken by the sound of a galloping horse. It was Saturday, February 8
Sass E. Frass and Joe D. Glow
Headin' out to the picture show
Sweet innocence, not yet eighteen
Daddy don't mind what daddy don't see
Heavy
Sass E. Frass and Joe D. Glow
Headin' out to the picture show
Sweet innocence, not yet eighteen
Daddy don't mind what daddy don't see
Heavy
crooked, Joe got me buzzing it's a tease
Ortiz artisans with the pen, making this artist find the thread
See the intent, 45 cents in my pocket, hot in this
and when your album drop we'll remember
And to all the Arab governments all yall pretenders
Kings only by title just a puppet
Words without action we ain't
The year was 2020, I was livin' back in Brooklyn
By day I was a Trader Joe, by night I started cookin'
And I fucked around and made a song about
Revisionist Past by Dying Fetus
Reekomposer vocals by Tony Reviere and Joe Benson
The long lasting record
The customary truths
Historic correlation
Cenotaph by Bolt Thrower
Reekomposer vocals by Joe Benson
Cenotaph
Alone you stand
The final parody
Destined to silence
A memorial to mortality
Now Beautiful Joe, he lay down in the snow in his old coat and hat
in his old hat and coat
The coat had been eaten by moths
The coat had been eaten
Lemme tell ya 'bout Kyle's momma
Straight out of tailor, Joe C.
Kyle's momma's a big fat bitch, she's the biggist bitch I know
and she stinks like
By accident
I found a room to rent
Above a bar they called little Joe’s
It was a big old shack
Off the beaten track
But man, I was tired of the road
Well I took him by the hand and we walked away
He said: „A damn´ story, but no woman no cry“
Hey Papa Joe do the Zydeco-Dance, and forget that old
education
And I’m sure this will end up online
So I don’t want to diss anyone at
The American Academy, I’m sure it’s equal to
The Art Institute of Chicago by
Hey-ho ola Joe
Caught you in the rain
It took you by surprise
I'll take you home and dance with you
Until your clothes are dry
Place your finger
'Cause you know the truth so well
It's much too late to worry
That we never had a chance
And when Joe the Georgian gets here
We will dance, dance dance
a player, I just fuck a lot
But you know Big Pun and Joe are still down by law
Who's down to fuck tonight?
Hey yo, I'm still not a playa but you still
a sigh
When they see Little Joe's passing by
Sometime the cabin's gloomy and the tables bare
But when he kisses me it's Christmas everywhere
Troubles
Skid Row Joe
Last night that's who I found in the dirty part of town
Lost forgotten with no place to go
Tormented with a bitter taste outcast by
be a shame."
"Whatcha gonna do tomorrow, Joe?
Whatcha gonna do on Christmas, got any plans?"
"Nothin' much."
"Why don't you come by the house
Skid Row Joe
Last night that's who I found in the dirty part of town
Lost forgotten with no place to go
Tormented with a bitter taste outcast by
crush a lot
But you know Big Pun and Joe are still down by law
Who's down to crush tonight?
Hey yo, I'm still not a playa but you still a hater
a player, I just fuck a lot
But you know Big Pun and Joe are still down by law
Who's down to fuck tonight?
Hey yo, I'm still not a playa but you still
I got props and pissed on
I was dissed by the system but I still tried to get on
No one could tell me that my style was unhealthy
I never
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