Lyrics:
I made sure to change from my pajamas to real clothing and report to my keyboard in my living room by 5:00 PM every day, I had to write at least one
have so much confidence
They don't raise their hands they're raising their fist
It's a shame you don't know my name though
The gold I got fills pots by
It's borrowed from our children
You
You guys have the time
The half of you are old
The other half's still young
Take the mic
Before it gets too late
and shoes for the wife
And a bicycle on the boys birthday
It's just a rumour that was spread around town
By the woman and children, soon we'll be
said if I would sober up
I'd be a powerful man
Turned out the street life
You prayed I wouldn't
But every church in the world
Can't save our children
I
Shine on like a rose at night
*written by Bob Geldof
*taken from the album "The Vegetarians of Love"
I thank God for my children, all the cars all the women
We gangstas! And there ain't a day that by
A Hustlah! Don't look back and reflect on his
me on lock
While the safest of bets, ain't after it
Baking this game, I batter it up
And even it out again
Like I am finishing up my second album
It's
Children kidnapped by cell phone screens
Snapchatting about DM's with porno queens
To Chippendale rap so I've got a Buck 'em with my sixteens
Thou shall not
to nourish the children, the monsters that consume them starve
So MacArthur Park is generally considered by experts to be the worst song ever
While it's bad,
and shoes for the wife
And a bicycle on the boys birthday
It's just a rumour that was spread around town
By the woman and children, soon we'll be
[Mr. Funkee]
The year is 1971. Now comes the first of the children of Roton.
Lords of the Underground witness the brith of the funky child,
Doitall,
To Have It+
Shit get tragic, niggas get savage
Fathered all my children
Blood keeps spilling
Of men, women, and children
And innocent civilians
Four albums
not a cover band
We're here to make an album of original songs"
He said, "Yeah, I guess that was wrong"
I said, "Yeah man, everything is sort
down to play with my children
Now I got bands, I'm playin' with millions
But, I can't lie and say, "I don't miss you"
Knowin' the I'm Him album
cleaned up around 'em
And I grabbed the box of my mixtape albums
Walked out the door, got a car in reach
And drove downtown to Broadway at the Beach
Man,
a wifey and my children by the pool
I want to have a mansion that I chill in with the crew
I need to pay my bills and I need to get some food
And I swear
No fear of time
His children will be like him
If he's given the white world hell, what will his children do?
This wasn't no play-thing
The motive
be so thirsty
Man motherfuckers are killing children out chere
Then go around asking for healing out chere
Have you seen how people been living out
album, bring the realest
Of me, my thoughts and my vision
I see a big boss, a small building
Living humble with my wife and 2 children
Doing what I love
soul into an album, felt no one else could bite it
Dreams for dollar signs replaced by thoughts of being godly, iris
But my iris couldn't take the signs,
made)
She so fine, I like to fuck her by her waist (by by her waist, by her waist)
Swallowed my children like girl how it taste
Bullets fly and you know
Fast
I often think about the fight of the Black Man,
Told by the world he can't think like others can
Eat and drink where others can, shackled by his
The year is 1971.
Now comes the first of the children of Roton
Lords of the Underground witness the birth of the funky child
Doitall hit 'em
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