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Yee yee! We've found 768 lyrics and 79 artists matching by r disc album crowded house.
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our house? Well how can I explain When my little boy and girl ask me 'Daddy, what's a train?' Words and Music by Bruce â??U. Utahâ?? Phillips
the best Therefore, hard to tell You dropped me off by the dungeon Never came in, but I knew that you were wondering Now are these niggas in this house
Show him I made somethin' out myself and not just tried Show him the house I bought the fam, let him tour inside No matter how far ahead I get, I
get your Home town grooving to it Taking yous out one by one I'll do me best to wreck house emcees Till there's fucking none I'm fucking done Don't want
Ah-ah, I never saw so many people tonight I mean y'all all got it crowded up in here and that's good I'm glad that y'all givin' it up for him,
a dumb-ass (boy) Disc Jockey farted as he charged to defeat the McCoy I'm a rhyming rap wizard, rhymes are like venom Bite em, you'll die, and I just say "to
dastardly deeds that YOU do, dummy Despite your degradations, +Dialect+ distributed by disc $12.95 for record and $10.95 for tape E - E is for
thugs from the R-O-C Sigel Sigel in the house Uh-huh, sick bastard Get your wig pushed back by the wig push-backer Uhh, uhh, Memph Bleek in
from the R-O-C Sigel Sigel in the house Uh-huh, sick bastard Get your wig pushed back by the wig push-backer uh, uh, Memph Bleek in the house
thugs from the R-O-C Sigel Sigel in the house Uh-huh, sick bastard Get your wig pushed back by the wig push-backer Uhh, uhh, Memph Bleek in
knowing things are barley gettin' by Shit I want it all, even if I don't get it at least I can say I tried My own friends turned to dope fiends
buyin' no limit discs Money don't make me, I make money Niggas get high and die cause they be stuntin' like some crash dummies I plant my seed and let
Yeah Tryna figure out the difference But I think, think the lines are starting to get blurred I'm in a strange place I feel like Ma$e when he
Yeah Tryna figure out the difference But I think, think the lines are starting to get blurred I'm in a strange place I feel like Ma$e when he
My bars got the muscle to smash all others I'm out here playin disc golf with man hole covers Nah up the ante, follow the plan I'm putting nails
of sittin' in the dank house steady inhalin' somethin' So I snatched you up, put you at the right place at the right time Open mic night at the club, with
Piece by piece, this puzzle comes together Sever your ties with the bad guys, let the lies go If you wanna be a hoe, go 'head and don't be scared
All you know when the album drop my name gonna blow like bang! I just bust down doors cuz all those watches never gonna be my thang My shit bang when
finding flaws What if they say I'm not Hiphop enough, when this drops They spit, gosh, the disc jocks are rough I'm pissed off when list tops are kid songs
next month You asked what I was working on, I said I'm writing an album of love songs I laughed and said love songs are dumb And I said yeah, wait
next month You asked what I was working on, I said I'm writing an album of love songs I laughed and said love songs are dumb And I said yeah, wait
March your racist butt to Moscow Ya know what I'm saying? Are there any, are there any intelligent people in the house? What can I say, o ye of little
enough, I'd find out that day what was up with Mum I remember her out the front of the house crying on the step I just glanced over and saw Grandma helping
Introduction (Ray Price - Willie Nelson) When the evening sun goes down Hi neighbors it is sundown at our house As we make this new Columbia album
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