Lyrics:
to a little Bob Seger and Marvin Gaye
Rocking, rocking my life away
Sing a song for the small towns
Sing one for the city
Sing a song for the nights alone
Gaithersburg, right in Old Town, the shit was insane
I'll never forget it, and that's where I met my boy Lenny, Big Lenbo, wassup!
That's right man, we just
ran out
Of your fuckin' town
Can't come back to his pack in Philly, cause
To be blunt ever since he got cut
He ain't had the guts to stick around
I
If you a downer stay the fuck outside the club, ho
If you tired, wake the fuck up for the town, ho
If you brown nosed, keep your mouth closed
By any
In the County Tyrone, near the town of Dungannon,
Where many the ructions meself had a hand in.
Bob Williamson lived, a weaver by trade,
And all
Bronx Style Bob is in the house, what you wanna do? (Party!)
Hen-Gee is in the house, what you wanna do, homeboy? (Party!)
My man Shaquel is in
In the County Tyrone, near the town of Dungannon,
Where many the ructions meself had a hand in.
Bob Williamson lived, a weaver by trade,
And all
on a two lane road
Let it rock, that’s how we roll
Bob Seger blastin’ on the stereo
Don’t give up, Just give in
Don’t you know the party’s just about
stunner shades on, and a tree in my roots
I got the Chi-town swagger, and I rocks it full
Yes, Mudville, baby, we don't take no bull
We keep it rockin'
In the county Tyrone, in the town of Dungannon
Where many a ruckus meself had a hand in
Bob Williamson lived there, a weaver by trade
And all
Well, if you take Hang-highway, drive to the north and follow it as far as it goes
You'll arrive in a town, called Simshole City, capital of County
on some night moves like Bob Seger
High on life, right here and now
Just a little bit more than the law will allow
Marchin' to the beat of my own drum
Got
'cause you know I'm on the lamb
Wanted man by Lucy Watson,
Wanted man by Jeannie Brown
Wanted man by Nellie Johnson,
Wanted man in this next town
I've
gonna make you scream
We got fire breathing horsepower, if ya wanna really rock
More power by the hour, celebrate the aftershock
C'mon, C'mon, we got Bob
he dropped
On the hip-hop world
If Frank Ocean wanted to play you a song
You'd drive across town in
The pouring rain, right? That's how we've
Ended up
then we glisten all Rare
Pain by subscription my drug's right here
I want a bonus and commission Kaysh in the air
Royalties for la Famila we all gone
street in your town
I ain't shy but this illing noise's colder than the motherfucking streets
Of motherfucking Chi-town
Yeah I'm about to showdown
Bluff
about a dime a dozen
Ash and exhale, days keep on coming
Collapsing supernova
I got work by Bova
Up in the shadowbox
Framed like it was priceless
Bob
conspiracy theories say they know I'm ok,
I'll drop seven more albums by my ghost from the grave
VERSE 2: SUFFA
I wanna die in Memphis like Elvis,
Senseless
can play the drums, is there a piper in the town)
(Have them put their kilts on and come right down)
BING:
Ah, you brawny lads, whether you're poor
can play the drums, is there a piper in the town)
(Have them put their kilts on and come right down)
BING:
Ah, you brawny lads, whether you're poor
And as the trucks drive by
You can hear the mother fuckers go "PUNK!"
A couple of lines, an extra thermos of Joe
He'll be kicking in heads at the punk rock show
I'm lonely
Ya I'm lonely
As i lay there in the evening
Lying awake in bed
A good old bob seger tune
Stuck in my head
I feel like a dog
Stuck in a cage
of the most famous jazz pianists in the world"
I said, "I think I may have heard of him
Or maybe I'm getting him confused
With the chain food restaurant Bob
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