Lyrics:
a drive by
My niggas unemployed sellin' Popeyes
I serve the base, I serve the base
I serve the base, I serve the base
I keep a shooter with me like
get snaked, you can get faked
Out by the bitch that you feelin'
'Cause you thought that she was an angel
That bitch ain't no angel, I treat her halo
of them
They talk slick and wondering why I be son'n them
I said bitch I'm a mogul, yes I am global
I don't do Barnes but yes I am noble
Every interview yes
the conversation is about
Realization, self realization
And actually seeing your creativity
Happen in front of
You so the reason why I turn up
So much in interviews
Well I ain't fucking having it
I'm about to handle it
Bout to knock your lights out
Quick someone get a candle lit
Oh that interview we had?
Motherfucker
here in my shop by myself
But maybe some day I
Justin superstar in Norway
Justin
Breaking news: Justin on "Senkveld" tonight
Justin superstar in Norway
seven in the N.M.e.
Now the Melody Maker want to interview me
And ask about my politics and theories on religion
Now my record's up to number three
Livin' life without fear
Puttin' five karats in my baby girl's ear
Lunches, brunches, interviews by the pool (lunch, brunch)
Considered a fool 'cause I
by you so fast, got you sneezing, hachoo
They got the shivers, man, I got the fever
I gotta bring the hood back after Katrina
Weezy F Baby, now
I've got a question for you
Please grant me an interview
Don't want to read it in a magazine
Don't want to see it on the silver screen
Don't let
undressed (check it)
At every job interview, they're just so impressed (really?)
'Cause I got all my ex-wives on my chest (haha)
Over here is Clay Aiken,
seven in the N.M.e.
Now the Melody Maker want to interview me
And ask about my politics and theories on religion
Now my record's up to number three
yeah)
Breeze by you so fast, got you sneezing, hachoo
They got the shivers, man, I got the fever
I gotta bring the hood back after Katrina
Weezy F
stop by here tomorrow to complete our interview
But I know what you're gonna say
I know what your bottom line is
You might have the cash
But you
How'd'ya like a mansion in Manhattan
And a cosy cottage by the sea?
How'd'ya like to dress in silk and satin?
Baby, have a little dream on me
How'd
column, didn't have to cook a rock
A damn goodie two-shoes, that what they call ya
Never judge a person or a book by it's covers
Just because my tone is
When a single mom goes out on a date with somebody new
It always winds up feeling more like a job interview
My mama used to wonder if she'd ever
I've been seeing all the guys
Come by and talk to you
Seems to me like it's without a break Uhhh
I'm too shy most of the time
Let me tell you girl
This
I've got a question for you
Please grant me an interview
Don't want to read it in a magazine
Don't want to see it on the silver screen
Don't let
guess that's why I'm here and I can't come back home
And guess when I heard that? When I was back home
Every interview I'm representing you, making you
that? When I was back home
Every interview I'm representing you, making you proud
Reach for the stars so if you fall, you land on a cloud
Jump in
thing, buenas noches
By the end of the night my knees are now on your chest
Fuck me bad, let me in, a cardic arrest
Make me come
Make me come
Come, we
thing, buenas noches
By the end of the night my knees are now on your chest
Fuck me bad, let me in, a cardic arrest
Make me come
Make me come
Come, we
Words and music by Arlo Guthrie
Poor Adam alone in Eden
Taking off his shoes
Tired of running around all morning
From his animal interviews
He
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