Lyrics:
on Friday, hit it my way
Like Frank Sinatra, lite up at the opera
When the cops come show the prescription from the docta
I puff cause I got ta'
This stuff
could pull the moon down here
Come and put your arm around me
Toothfairy in the night
I could jump out the window
I feel too alive Im too alive
Diamonds
of this day
Please make his life okay
Oh won't you stop by now
Give me love, give me power to go on
Oh Frank won't you come on down
Don't you want to see
known
I had a dream, but dreams had other plans for me
For 30 years I set the thermostat
Where Frank Sinatra liked it,
Pulled his girls, and hung
down
No more running from the police
They can't stop us now
The truth is they was never me
My hooligans hitters the only thing I'll ever be
I know that
the metro, now that shit is retro
Like the Infrareds on my feet, baby, let's go
Sinatra what they know me by, Logic what they call me
Gotta catch a flight
me Logic, motherfucker
Better know the name
I spit crack like Pusha (Yuugh) , Novocaine
We never dumb it down
You know we just numb it down
And watch
ain't gonna let go
My baby and I
Use to to dance cheek to cheek
As Frank might say
I did it my way
My stay at this old hotel can you
Tell me baby what
Frank Sinatra with that Frank Ocean
This is like Beethoven meets Zaytoven
From Castalia, to Byhalia, to Australia
We gon' pave the way for failures
Mane
at me like a rapper
And I'm sure Dame figured
Like, man, if he do a whole album, if his raps is wack
At least we can throw Cam on every song and save
And its where they'll bury you if you're killed by the mob
Addiction is real sad your families at whits end
The only thing that you care about is more
Brr, Lord let me catch my drift, ah
Roll a big chopper
While the ride getting wiped down
The white I got right now
Will turn your wife light-brown
(Yeah...) Edibled up (yeah).
[Verse 1: Frank Calhoune & Level]
Chompin' on dat chiggy-chiggy-chocolate (*Chomp*).
Pass me tha drippy-drippin' water, like
excuse me )
And may the lord have mercy on the fate of this movie
And God bless the mind of the man in the street.
Chorus:
Help all the rednecks
can't get worse
If you won't describe the pain and how it hurts
I hope this helps
I hope this helps (yeah)
Feelin' down, keep your head up
and Katanas, fresh batch of Berny-hana
I'm thinkin' in the sauna and playin' Frank Sinatra (yeah)
Before we sit down, you gon' have to make an offer (make
bust your shop down, shh, I'm on silence boy
You's the toughest shit on the corner when you was eying me boy
Could of avoided the pain stop facing
I know you watching the world telling God how tight we was
You might be gone but you ain't dead I feel your soul by my side
Asking me to check
make dough, like Jurassic
Park did quick to spark kids who start shit
See me, only me
The Under-boss of this holocaust
Truly yours, Frank White
We
make dough, like Jurassic
Park did quick to spark kids who start shit
See me, only me
The Under-boss of this holocaust
Truly yours, Frank White
We
the rap
Talking stacks on stacks
Newports smoking packs on packs
Me against the world still on my 2Pac like that
Fresh off the scene and I'm riding down
Texting me "I love you" as you were getting digged down by and old flame
At least you asked first when you preferred to win home games
Fuck it I'll let
Yo, release what's in me
Besides the Henny, it's eyes that's seen plenty
Fiends get skinny as if Queens was a Craig Jenny
Instead of diet plans,
Frank Zappa (lead guitar, synthesizer, vocals)
Ike Willis (rhythm guitar, synthesizer, vocals)
Mike Keneally (rhythm guitar, synthesizer, vocals)
.jpg/228px-Frank_Sinatra_(1957_studio_portrait_close-up).jpg "Frank Sinatra")
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