Lyrics:
scratchin up my car, you're bustin up all my windows
You're callin my house, callin my cell phone
I shouldn'ta never gave you my number anyway
But I
turn
Your number's up, the bullet's got your name
You still go on, to Hell and back again
Valhalla waits
Valkyries rise and fall
The warrior
alias number skipped bail
Now I'm hidin' from the bounty hunter man I ain't neva' went to jail
An' told some stuff
Vallejo didn't raise no powder puff
on a bowl of red
I'm talkin' about sweet Lorene, the chilli queen
Down at number nine Pecos Street
She's got bull meat hangin' up above her head
Young Ke Ke he down wit us
South Side nigga and we down to bust I'm number one
[Scarface]
Too many niggas takin' rap for a joke
You be up for one
The cops, they'll steal your dreams and they'll kill your prayers
Take a number where the blood just barely dried
Wait for something better
No one behind you
comes...
I just want to be a normal boy,
Just wanna be a normal boy.
If I only could just keep the women off my tongue, then she can be my number one
throw em out da window
We to critical we yell at you walkin away lookin so fritical
The ADC
We be the number one contenders
WHEN WE COME TO THE STREET
birds fly high, high, high
Numbers, you got that number
You're looking outwards, and don't see the big picture
Over your shoulder, you'll get no last
Sister, it feels like just yesterday
Sister, don't you forget my number on the door
You've got something and it's so good to see
Something
her black eye liner she wrote her number on my tremblin' palm
Yeah, my knees started shakin', I was breakin' out a sweat
Tryin' to memorize her
Willie in that Hummer
Keep it simple stupid means numbers
Payola dough white owned black radio
Runnin' on empty help go the desperado
So I bomb
live it one day at a time
There are a number of things, you know bro
Yeah I hear you [Incomprehensible]
Well, let me get up outta here man my ride outta
number,
Thunder clapping in the summer skies
'Till confetti comes down
Here comes a kiss, y'all
Wish y'all'd
Open up that Cristal
Baby, 'cause we're
Still sounds good to me
Like we were seventeen
So play that song for me, come on Eileen
Still sounds good to me
1989 a number, what a summer
You can be mad at me, tell me I was born to quit
I was checking gold (gold, gold)
Or you could just freak with me
Said it again, let the numbers
the bread right, look
Bank account like a phone number (yeah)
I just gave your bitch the wrong number (woo)
I don't fuck with no fuck niggas, you
like a stranger and that feels so rough
No, you didn't have to stoop so low
Have your friends collect your records and then change your number
I guess
See the office, see the phone Call the number, no one home
Take a powder, have to think
Now the question, where to drink
He's a number nine man with
and tell me how could you be cold?
I'm comin' to you from the underground, with thunder sound
Number one question, "Yo, how can I be down?"
Well, I'll
number, they can see through
A Brian Ferry style lover, is making eyes at at at you
Meet and drink and pollinate
Meet and drink and pollinate
Meet
We're young men at the century's end,
When the numbers all start over again but, nothing else can, nothing else can.
We're young men at the century's
one watch yourself slowly sink in
Number two hold on for anything
At what point does it explode,
What moment do we scream
It must be closer
The number of his extension
I've got a picture of him in a dress
Looking after my pension
He's got a girl he likes
One day a week and one hour
Goes up
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