Lyrics:
Uh
Uh huh
Uh huh
Uh
Uh huh
Uh huh
Aye
Aye
Yo mama kicked me out her house
Just cuz i'm tighter than her blouse
I'm Tom, she Jerry
Flyer than Fairy
It is now 6:30 in the a.m
This is Baba Oje speaking directly to you
Right down to earth in a language
One can easily understand
We got a list
I'm tired of dese crumbs
I want a fat loaf I'm talkin Benjamins
I'm trynna buy a fatass house
Lots of rooms in that bitch and live all by myself
Imma
Yeah, whaddup
I'm tryna put my dick inside of yo panties
Yeah, and when I tear this shit for real, yeah
I be rolling out, while they rolling loud
a hammer than a nail
___________________________________________
*written by Bob Geldof
*taken from the album "The Happy Club"
I'm out honky-tonkin'
I smoke my Marlboros with the filters off
It makes me cough
I can stomach Lone Star Beer
But not shots of rye
Rye can only get by
okay, but for them
George, Patrick, Tom, Bob
I don't care who it was, as long as I'm away from you, I'll be so happy with my life
Goodbye, I know this is
sorry my dear
Actually I'm on a mission
Like Tom and no be cruise
Ife m fulu on my way
Boy i cholu ima bia yiri my shoes
I no say I never reach there
Mana
more time
You do your thing Homes but I'm gonna do mine
[Chorus: x2]
Look at all this rumors
Started by jealous people
And basically that's what
J'lâche une bastos, sans forcer
Que des 6-0, sans forcer
On joue à Rolland K-Sos, sans forcer
94.0, sans forcer
Danew By Rohff, bob DT
C'est l'été
always rolling four deep Got the squad with me
For them i got endless love like i'm Lionel Richie
To the rest of you we like bob and whitney, you just
I’m going down
Memphis Tennessee
I’m going down
Further south to Clarksdale
And at the crossroads there will be no sale
Down in St Louis
With Tom
cheat wit that F&N
Glizzy f i'm a put some f's on the rims
She a slim shady hoe i call her eminem
Tom brady with the hoe i passed her to my friend
Can't
(Ali, the baddest muthafucka there ever)
I'm chokin' players like I'm Bob Knight, choke the coaches like I'm Spreewell
They bowin' to the 'Sayers
what pocket I had left, my handkerchief
I'm guilty by affiliation, in many ways gangsta
But let me explain something, a paradox if you may
I threw all my
sweet plantains
Cheers to getting money, I'm Ted Danson
Nigga been focused since I said hi to
More shit to get high to
More slick bars I provide you
Fuck
the album "Vegetarians of Love"
*Written by Bob Geldof/Pete Briquette
the Cumberland
Smothered by undertows
Yeah, I got a bad habit
I ain't talkin' underglow
I'm talkin' murder with pens I got
At Staples a month ago
While I was there
management
Man, I'm like the Feds, I bring down your establishment
Under the Rico, I purchased my 3rd quarterly from Bob Cito
Got your block locked like
to church
Letters of Paul? You better call him Saul like Bob Odenkirk
Old school - a good old boy with a new message
Money trees wilt - I'm here to teach
I'm just another Russell Group punk
Just another Distrokid kid
Just another dime-store Tom Verlaine
Waiting for my 15 seconds of fame
When the child
place off the interstate
Just a little bit of Chavo
A couple jokes like Bob Hope
I went the wrong way several times on my way home
No I'm not alone
with this shit man
Fuck all that clout
You niggas ain't about shit, don't know who I is
But she know what I'm bout
I bet
That Katie can make your bitch
what I'm bout
I bet (I bet)
That Katie can make your bitch back that ass up and bounce
My fist (My fist)
A Kilimanjaro by the way I keep rocking it out
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