Lyrics:
blinded
By the phony smiling faces
That they give, I’m saying
I don’t like the look of it
Instead of getting on your feet
You wanna bring a player down
The Intergalactic Laxative
Words & Music by: Donovan Leitch - 1973
Performed by: Donovan
Album: Cosmic Wheels - 1973
I was impressed like everyone,
Yo, I bought that album man, it's wack man
I'm tellin you, I don't like it
I'ma be honest man
Honest?
I'm dead up, I'm serious
Serious?
I don
a G-4 private jet
Bet you get more than grazed by the nine
Laid by the side
Oh you out of bullets? Here, take some of mine
And clowns hate how I lock
of social media
Don’t want to spread the truth to come out like a encyclopedia
Wonder why I make love songs when I have love for myself
I know that I’m single
the night i whip my car with no lights
Waiting for you cross by with a bike
I’m not alright i do not like anyone who Don’t like to fight
Never met anyone my
Word by word, (baby turn my pages)
Line by line (don't you put me down)
One More chapter (yes you got me going)
On my mind (ooh, ahhh, ahhh)
Verse 2.
If
are open , I hear you calling me
I hear you calling me..
I hear you calling me..
Ohh......
From the album "Gravity's Rainbow"
Written by: N.
as fakes,
For those who stuck by me over time I put yours over mine,
Don't have to speak your names you know my mind,
In this simple game of respect it's
to ask a favor, don't talk to me like I'm stupid
Got no love for you haters, so send that message to cupid
Give a shout out to Who Kid, (why give a shout
virginity
Your jam is just a dreamin' MC scheme
gettin' crushed by a L.L. theme
somethin' like Shaft, put you in a cask', bo!
You little blood-clot
virginity
Your jam is just a dreamin' MC scheme
gettin' crushed by a L.L. theme
somethin' like Shaft, put you in a cask', bo!
You little blood-clot
Ask me, do OutKast got some flows so you can blast me
Nasty, niggaz on the point they see you shinin'
Engineers in the studio see me rhymin'
Don
virginity
Your jam is just a dreamin' MC scheme
gettin' crushed by a L.L. theme
somethin' like Shaft, put you in a cask', bo!
You little blood-clot
flaw
Your album sales proves you’re not that hard
You getting crucified on these damn blogs
Cause you don’t got bars
And you don’t got heart and you got
inside the game, it's too big
It's a tight fit never made a bad song
They don't come out of my lips
Got the game by the neck
Won't let go I got tight grip
baby (nasty)
Oh, the cooties (it's the movie, oh, no)
They comin' to get me, runnin' (runnin')
Touched by the unloyal
Trust, I had to shower for
to start thinkin
Pussy MC's stinkin' so I can't get hard
Some, become MC's cause it's hard to get a job
Hard for you to trust people, you don't trust in
Ayo, I break bread, ribs, hundred dollar bills
Peel on Ducatis and other four wheels
Write a book full of medicine and generate mills
Tour the album
And the mission don't stop till the casket drop
I'm protected by the tech
And the teflon vest
And we earn that respect
Cause we worked so hard so put that
Aye, Ooh
I'm bout to run up a check, ooh
I'm bout to run up a check, ooh
I'm gon' get ice on my neck, I'm gonna get me a bust down Patek, ooh
I don
shits, at like forty-seven cops
Call me Doc D, get on my dick, you carbon copy
I just illegally downloaded the Kid Cudi album (great scott)
And got
Yeah
We could catch a vibe, me and you side to side
I could feel the energy by looking in your eyes
We only live once why we wasting all this time?
to get popped by a cop?
Who the next n**** in the hood to get shot?
I hope it ain't me, so I'm strapped up in bulletproof
N**** on my stomach see -
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