Lyrics:
the 1970s, I am privileged to know that my Bullock family lineage dates as far back as 1819. I not only know this as an honored fact, I know the names
And she needs an apple stuffed into her fat gob. Oh look! It's that junky
Lead singer, I hear he's a nob,
Well, I know him actually and he's alright,
that you mention, yes, I know them, they're quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces and give them all another name
Right now, I can't read too good,
these people that you mention
Yes, I know them, they're quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces
And give them all another name
Right now, I can't
that you mention, yes, I know them, they're quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces and give them all another name
Right now, I can't read too good,
to make my tune sell
Call yourself a singer-writer
You're just bluffin'
Your name's on the credits and you didn't write nothin'
I sing fast, I know that
I'm not a rapper, I'm a singer with a flow
I've got a habit of spitting
Quicker lyrics you know
You found me ripping the writtens
Out
now Humphrey. If you loved me, you shouldn’t have bickered with me all that time.
HUMPHERY:
But don’t you see Pearl, I didn’t know how to express my
Hop
Picked the "Truth" beat for Beanie
And I was in the session with him, I had my demo with me
You know, like I always do
I played a songs, he's
student said Sir listen to my favorite rap. cnd our hero Heard this song full blast. cnd he told his student man this song is trash. Basura!
The student
solemn oath, he said, Allah is the witness over what we
Have said
And he said, O my sons, do not enter by one gate, but enter by different gates
And I
Everyone wants to be a cowboy
Grab your guns boy
Forty-five by my side, do he live
No the nigga dies
Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen
You shot
Everyone wants to be a cowboy
Grab your guns boy
Forty-five by my side, do he live
No the nigga dies
Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen
You shot your
on the out-of-work streets
Before he began to understand
Before he began to understand
And Joe got hired by a bowery bar
sweeping up the saloon
As his rag would
(featuring Slick Rick)
[Common]
Yeah yeah
You know, Slick, why do he wanna come crib
Acting like he know how the brothers live?
We have to let 'em
And I said, "My name is Sue, how do you do
Now you're gonna die"
(Yeah, that's what I told him)
Well, I hit him hard right between the eyes
And he
hurt
Even though the sun ain't out you
Refuse to take ya shades off
You starin' at the tombstone
Wishin' you could rip the fuckin' name off
Me? I know
like that
I see, smiling, laughing, screaming my name
I see, smiling, laughing, screaming my name
He's dead, he's dead, he's dead
He's dead, he's dead,
darkness into it, and extracts my name
In one last life, he is calm and great
I am so tired, but my love remains
He dreams of a woman, and does not refuse
the ocean, ayy
I hate people when their bed's on fire
What you know about rollin down in the deep?
These chicks don't even know the
Name of my band
Psycho
a little sex
Turn your ass out with my triple X
[Chorus: female singer]
It's Short Dawg, he came to play the game
So whatch'all want to do? He
my name, my name.
Sentinela da Manhã
Announcing the arrival of the Son
He has risen from the dead, Jesus
I will know when the dawn breaks
Come
to piss in
Call me by my middle name
I don't have a middle name
So that mean don't call me
Eyes blessed if you saw me
Clock go tick tick tick
Don't know
on the out-of-work streets
Before he began to understand
Before he began to understand
And Joe got hired by a bowery bar
sweeping up the saloon
As his rag would
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