Lyrics.com »

Search results for 'by he kitchen album ub40'

Yee yee! We've found 20 lyrics, 33 artists, and 100 albums matching by he kitchen album ub40.



But his wife and children they were crying out in the kitchen
Out in the back
Once a year he remembers that scene
But it seems so long ago now
He tries
And grandpa he'd play that fiddle all night long
Now the women folk they would work out in the kitchen
You could smell that food for miles and miles around
Now they wanna hear a country nigga rap
Five albums in, I swear a country nigga snap
Thought they wanted trap, thought they wanted bass
Thought they
I know, I don't even care about her being preganant by Michael Jackson
You know what we should do
We should go get her album when it comes out
There
and they scared of dark
There was a little nigga by the name of Cris
Nobody paid him any mind
No one gave a shit
Knowing he could rap 
No one lift
Where they live life fast and they scared of dark
There was a little nigga by the name of Cris
Nobody paid him any mind
No one gave a shit
Knowing he
Where they live life fast and they scared of dark
There was a little nigga by the name of Cris
Nobody paid him any mind
No one gave a shit
Knowing he
never came home
Straight to boost mobile yeah you know I change phones
Ever seen him do his thing, he amazing
Young a beast in the kitchen they need
hock your imaginary guitar
and get a good job...Joe did, and he's a happy guy now, on the day shift at
the Utility Muffin Research Kitchen, arrogantly
to the phone, I can sell the tone

In the science lab I mix me chemicals
In silicone fella in the vanilla cone
The school even play the recorder
Now days he
cake
Two times for my dogs pullin' triggers
And my niggaz in the kitchen that be flippin' that weight
East coast, west coast, mid west, dirty south
Then
to call me the pirex kid, aka young arm and hammer
In the kitchen with the pots yeah work the glass
Hard on 'em pimp yeah I work the task
And when they
Where they live life fast and they scared of dark
There was a little nigga by the name of Cris
Nobody paid him any mind
No one gave a shit
Knowing he
scared of dark
There was a little nigga by the name of Cris
Nobody paid him any mind, no one gave a shit

Knowing he could rap, no one lifted a hands
So he
all my mens
throw on some Marvin Gaye
I smoke my weed and clean my kitchen dishes
Tec to the sky see how mom's is always bitchin'
I'm done buffin'
sons grinnin
Mums gotta skits out, when she sees her new yard n kitchen
The C needs coachin
Put your'e album out, same day as us and we'll see who's
nights
Though it might seem wrong thank god for that white
They use to call me the pirex kid, aka young arm and hammer
In the kitchen with the pots yeah
the kitchen
He could do it straight up, or he could do it with a whipping
But then came a drought, and then he put his first album out
Decided to do it full
nights
Though it might seem wrong thank god for that white
They use to call me the pirex kid, aka young arm and hammer
In the kitchen with the pots yeah
Fuck Skepta
Fuck Skepta
Fuck Skepta
Let me hear you say fuck Skepta
Fuck Skepta
Fuck Skepta
Fuck Skepta
Fuck Skepta

He sold out
I sold