Lyrics:
built up my own fucking Private Island!
Bangarang, Captain Hook
Black mustache and a dapper look
I'm the feather in the cap of the seven seas
And you
on picking up the cross
To follow
Keep on chasing
Time is getting shorter
By the second people waiting
For sons of God
To be revealed
Throughout all
that i can't seem to quit
I feel my days are shorter than before
Counting the minutes, the seconds my fall
But while i'm still here i offer a toast
To my
pushed me on the bed and this you can bet
In between her legs was real, real wet
So I grabbed her by her thighs and I moved up truly
She jumped off
a winner?
Then again it's kinda late, so what's up with dinner?
At my place or my place or my place or my place
By the fireplace or the candle light
pushed me on the bed and this you can bet
In between her legs was real, real wet
So I grabbed her by her thighs and I moved up truly
She jumped off
One, two, Bone is coming for you
Three, four, better lock the doors
Five, six, better load your clips
Seven, eight, we're gonna test your fate
[Cut in Voice]
People always asking me, man how do you make a hit record, well here's what I do
[Abdominal]
Pulling the king and the seven
an opportune to play
Flanked by ol' Stew and Trey
Cause there ain't no cure for suicide
Seven seconds after I dissolve into the fiery gates of hell
Locked
of cleanin' your cock
Ya burnt seven niggaz, yo, around the block
You always leave a trail, 'cause your pussy, it smell
Fuckin' ho, ya need to quit thinkin'
on the bed and this you can bet
In between her legs was real, real wet
So I grabbed her by her thighs and I moved up truly
She jumped off the bed and said,
life
I don't know, on my life
Yo, nigga check the stacks, check the results
We in your top five by default
I swear to God we're putting UK rap
feel
Would she go in shock, die to? ,this shit is real
I wonder how you feel when you know it's right by
And if you do, does your soul go sky high ?
7TH ROW CENTER FIELD YANKEES DOWN BY ONE |I HEARD THE CRACK OF THE BAT THAT GAME WINNING HOME RUN|I STRETCHED OUT MY ARM PRAYING IT WAS LONG
snow for the winter but the trees be the best
Ridin' down the 7 we connected to the 4 with the music up loud nd the petl to
the floor
Cke Cke Cke we
distance
Freedom, long earned
Relinquished in seconds
Only numbers on the street
Algorithms bouncing to the beat
Bow to your masters
You are only numbers
STAND UP (Play Ball)
Words and music by Tommy DeCarlo, Bruce McKagan
grab a dog and a bottle of beer
the ballgames almost here
lets get it on cuz
(Ayy, Nephew Ric, tell 'em what's good, seven)
This shit for my kinfolk
(Ayy, lil' Ric, talk to 'em for a second, homie, do that)
This shit for my
Hmm hmmm hmmm
3 am, phone rings, here we go again
Seven missed calls
Now you're calling from your friends
Whiskey and coke
I can hear it on your
I was staring at you eating saltines when I realized
if we make it to tomorrow then we've pulled off our greatest heist yet
it's seven weeks and one
lid
Thats where the lion and both of the hedgehogs are hid
There's Totoro and a couple of more of those one eyed guys from the second hand store
They're
no traces
I'm the ace to shovels
So sick, muthafucka cover face with muzzles (Yeah!)
Flushing, Queens, twenty seven years strong
Where you think
I poured you a glass of wine and drank it for the second time
Then 7 PM turned to 10
I'm still alone and my lips are red
But not in a good way
There used to be a café a few blocks away,
Open seven days, called The Brilliant Mistake
Where a crow-haired girl with scarlet lips
And slender
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