Lyrics:
Hotel
Where Nancy and Sid Vicious
And my friend Dave once dwelled
The street was black under my feet
Which continued their walkin'
Though I was vaguely
But Frank Ocean is great too
But you know who the greates of all of us?
Who do ya'll think? Nope
Kid motherfucking Cudi radio, fuck you!
Oh yeah I'm
chlamydia it goes yellow when I skeet.
Lives ruined by aids but now we want men.
Old fags would kill to live their life again.
As if we are watching an STI
need?)
Sold shirts and socks, I even sold soap
Got too small for me, I sold my old coat (uh)
Walked in jewelry stores, and stole gold ropes (yes I did)
I'm old Tom Moore from the bummer's shore in that good old golden days
They call me a bummer and a gin shot too, but what cares I for praise ?
I
in the valley
Nothing's able to grow
'Cause the light's too low
Folks spend their days
Digging 'round for diamonds and gold
'Til they just get old
and that's a fact
You took my money then you took my soul You make a young man turn to old
Your love's like poison gonna put me in a hole Don't wanna touch it
John the Wood went out one day
To view the scene from a different angle
He stood and watched a child at play
A-tinkling on an old triangle
Dave
feel rich
I know there's somethin' to pour
In the beer fridge
By six o'clock Dave's shown up
Followed by Kyle in his pickup truck
Got tunes in
a suit of loot
You're surreal (That's one raw (big) deal)
You're surreal
Far too cerebral (enhanced appeal)
For mass appeal (I want my girls real)
You
the ghetto
I was born in the ghetto, raised in the ghetto
I bang out beats by cars and ho stacks
Rap nigga puttin' out rock-n-roll tracks
Anything with wheels,
on tracks with Mos Def
When you call him Kwa-li or Kwe-li, I put him on songs with Jay-Z
I'm the Gap like Banana Republic and Old Navy, and ooh
It come out
that we're not too old for this lifestyle
But when we're all back in our hometown
We won't get stopped by a hangover
In-fucking-toxicated
My boys are
too much and parks his old cars on my lawn
Yeah it's the sound of some Johnny that keeps me right, with the lord
Leather bound stories of unrelenting
fo’ you niggas run into pot holes
I’m on one
But you know i been on nigga
Im bout chicken and riches
You on pussy and bitches
Cause you too stupid too
too
That made me a bigger asset to the plug
But tell me how you feel when your plug tell on ya
Your partner in crime on thugs tell on ya
Talking 20
To rock'n'roll
Way down in the deep deep South
There's a guy with a girly mouth
Eating the same banana sandwich
Dressed in the same kind of kitsch
Way down by
the same, no need to feel ashamed, so hey
How does it feel to be relieved of your old school rock-n-roll ways?
It ain’t too bad, but I just gotta ask, how
Gettin' by
By the way can I hitch a ride
Gettin' by
Saving dollars and my dimes
Gettin' by
Dead broke but I don't cry
Pockets' got a hole and I don't
Look
I need me a yard like Dave's got
Old friends from school can't talk
Anymore when you done more
Trips then ASOS
I wanna be known in the scene for
Becky's playing a piece by Gershwin on her old piano
She's been playing since her childhood, "Too long to recall..."
But the chords that fall from
too much
I got two phones and I don't know who to trust
I need a girlfriend, I need a girlfriend
Bet that girlfriend lonely, introduce her to my
known by the name of old Johnny Dhu
Of all the trade's that's going, sure begging is the best
For when a man is tired, he can sit down and rest
He can beg
The baddest Bobbysoxer that you ever seen
Reppin' my team
We real all the time, so my squad keen, bing
Dave, it's me Sinatra and my boy Dean
The way we
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