Lyrics:
there's no idea too
Who cares, the girls are good
Full relaxation
Nirvana state of mind
It sounds so fucking good
But it's all right, it's OK that's a part
know why or how
FUCK!
BITCH!
I don't play no games go check your mate
Fuck around and get your squad all wrapped up in the cellophane
Boy went for
let go and be whole.
Together let's face our grief head on
We'll honor our loved ones and move on.
Then it's time!
I'll whisper in your ear a tale
your gut
And praying i see my sun.
Im using my Ak's to penetrate heaven's gates to find a solid solution instead of being a stale
Mate in my life
Who
When it all seemed hopeless
ct home in the zone
Some of y'all seem homeless
You can spot shook ones by the way they approach us
Love that look on your
Maybe it'll be this Sunday
Or it could even happen Monday
Don't you know it could all change one day
One day you could be in the worst state
Next day you
awoke I was still in the tank but the army had abandoned our base
I peeked my head out and saw Taliban soldiers crawling all over the place
I developed
like a cook, mother fucker
Putting all my cookies in a bowl
Glue cookies from your hoe
Tryna show you what it took, mother fucker and I panic
I don't
gates
Surrounded by them snakes
They be all up in your face and
Tryna talk the fire and crack on statements
Don't pen the affidavit
Man I shouldn't have
And every time you think you're safe
And when you go to turn away
You know they're sharpening all their knives
All in your mind
All in your head
Try
(Consider your race, your city and state)
(Your third world or US of A)
He placed me right here (Consider your race)
(By God's design
You were placed in time
grab ya by ya head, SLAM
Leave when ya bleedin red, WHAM
Then let fate, run its course
Call the plug, he's the source
Of the good kush, gets us romped
when you say my name
Better be a mate because if your a fake
Then it's off with your head like a snake in the garden
Ain't no way imma pardon
So today
and my nigga exchanged words then parted ways
you swore to god all day
your squad would spray my man in all kinds of sick and retarded ways
(g.
Good morning America, good morning to Erica
Who gave me good head while watching good morning America
And good day New York, have a good day in
man put their all in faith
Your minds in a duality warring state
I'm comfortable like a warm embrace
I looked into my own akashic book and inside
pray tell, good sir
I give way…
V 12
Knox
With this in mind,
And your permission, sir
I’ve something to say…
V13
Roosevelt
By all means, Knox
livin'
It look good in the beginning
But there’s never a happy ending
Where the money and the power
With your back blown off
Used to be pride in your life
a good one on my cheek
Now I'm trying to pull his head down so I can knee it
But he's got my ear
He's twisting it round so much that it's
Really
in the center of my life
Wooo!
This that type a shit, that you just bob your head too
Bob ya head too, you just you just bob ya head too
This that type
a headless body on the wall
Is it your body? Where's your head?
It must be down the hall, is it tangled in intestines?
Screaming and trying to reconnect
In
All of my imagination
Even my self-preservation
Is yours in time
Music by Peter Furler / Lyrics by Peter Furler, Steve Taylor and Phil Joel
©©2002
and the boys asked the local
radio station, or asked the ballroom dancers to come up and feature in the video. They did. Puuh, pretty
good isn't it? By the way,
like this...
The part of Bruce the Duck is played by an oboe...
Louie the Cat is a clarinet. All right, he's not really a
clarinet. He's just --- you
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