Lyrics:
pretty young for my age
I have my mothers eyes and my father's contempt for Roger McGuinn
I left school with 12 GCSEs, 3 A Levels and only one good song
okie-doke, teah I'm raw you know my flow
Cause B.O.B. be actin hard like a Viagra overdose
Talkin that noise on all them songs
A buncha lil' boys but you all
tenure as music director
Fo the Boston Symphony Orchestra from 1923-49
(9) Annie's cousin Fanny was a sweetie of
Mine: Is a song by Glenn
Miller
deckin', rubber neckin' in my tomb
Check it out yo, I smile like Groucho Marx
I make a joke, hokey pokey, and slide by like egg yolk
Play me like a punk like
the mañana
Mi need a bad one by me
Mi need a bad one beside me
They see dem suck pussy boi, try me
Bodmon, you can't do ah man grimy
Mi gun on me
Case
down
By Mr Tom Hughes town
I got a woman
Lives on Stony Hill
She used to sit down and gamble with
Mr Buffalo Bill
He's a bad man
You got
finally extinguished.
Mr. Stranger, aka The Bone Man, goes to Dublin
Space. Time. Rhythm. Static. Kinetic. Truth. What is truth?
Silence. Do you know?
Bob with the beat. Mob with team
I'm wanna be next up I'm not, but I might be
All the way to the top now sight see
Sit back I'm chillin like an ICEE
slippers
I like my bitches simple, lay back, relax ya mental
Shit, you know what I do, now tell me what you tryna get into
The man car's rented, the man
(We just we just here
Talkin' shit asher! You owe me a rhyme)
Asher: I owe you a rhyme?
(The last time we talked)
Asher: Alright man, turn it up
Man
pronto
Bombs go boom, throw two Glocks to Robocop
Look, mom, wow, my boob job's by Photoshop
Do not go downtown for colonoscopy
Doctors took Tom's foot, so
Warning, MC's stand back
You better take a chill and observe the skill
of the man who can, so understand god damn
I got a masterpiece a master
Uh, GOOD Music, this our year
Backing drums by DJ Premier
Now let me count it down
Who the fuck up in here
Common, Don, Old G, battle rap, oh
That
hard, black tar, concrete
Tom Vick times Papi Mason times 3
Uncle Toms need Tums to stomach atomic bombs
Or die from my Wizardry rZA, GZA, Method Man
I’m
Shit you know what I do
Now tell me what you tryna get into
The man cars rented, the man car killing
Gossiping, man, fuck the car look at the man in
don't get fed up
My people rise, my people fight
My people do alright
My people walk with pride and
We're marchin' side by side and
My people laugh,
here says he thinks you're wrapped too tight.
“But, by the way thanks for playing ‘Moon River' last night”
And his name is Rex Bob Lowenstein
means I was retarded
Drank tequila
Hammered like Bob Vila in her apartment
I walked outside with Tom Knight, drunk
And we came up with this great idea
Puffing on that shit that Bob Marley did
Snorting up that shit that killed Elvis kid
I'm looking paler than Michael Jackson skin
Living a life like
don't even know you like
A suffer from some dementia
"Why don't you like Tom?
You should both write songs"
"Honestly, I don't know the man
Or what
man
(Smokin') don't you ever forget
We said puffin' on that strong, writing songs
Pack another cone (pack another cone, 'nother cone)
(Smokin')
fucking show, no it wasn't cool
Ten girls in front of me singing my songs
Twenty guys in the back not listening to my songs
Not paying attention, they don't
be claiming that she fine
So then why you using filters
Homeboy say he stacking bricks
Man you must be Bob the Builder
Oh my God yea on God
Y'all be
by playin’ my song
Make all the kids scream along
Make the teachers think that something’s wrong but
No
That’s just not how it goes
I can get
Discuss these man song by bob tom Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In