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him he wants to be free He's got no one trying to help him or to save me Raised by family but not his mom Bobby at a young age was banished to Guam
let the thing go bust it Put a whole clip through your Kangol cousin Now your homie don't like it but he can't do nothing Came through busting, I
Nothing don't mean nothing honey if it ain't free, now now. And feeling good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues, You know feeling good was good enough
weed Well since I'm on Bin Laden let me tell you a story 'Bout these three pussy rappers who couldn't do nothing for me Gave a whole lot of cheese
weed Well since I'm on Bin Laden let me tell you a story 'Bout these three pussy rappers who couldn't do nothing for me Gave a whole lot of cheese
time Chorus: Do you hear the bells? I hear the bells Can you hear the bells? Bobby, can you hear the bells? I hear the bells! Buh-Bobby, Buh-Bobby
mean nothing hon If it ain't free no Oh feeling good was easy oh-ho When he sang the blues You know feeling good was good enough for me Good enough for
got a Bobby Boucher mind Ya brain ain't do the proper healin' Now go 'head Tap my pockets like you did Goodz if you want I'ma let you but what I'm a do
my plug was jemery lin Mike Bibby ot they driving passed the Tenn They just tryna get them blues off Bobby bland Duke was slidin base but he aint make
up and listen whenever Young Sinatra spit Yeah your girl as fine as hell but she a Young Sinatra chick Hey Bobby how can you tell? She on the Young
know silly begets silly you'll Learn on your own At least my conscience is clear I'm no longer steering you wrong Ain't nothing wrong with baguettes
see him lose Wrote this poem in navy, that's what I call singing the blues Word to Dot D, my family got me, no carbon copy Life can hit you harder
of innovation And I'm tired of all of this high school, "He's cool, he's not" rap shit Can a single one of you motherfuckers even rap? Shit No, this ain't
now? Oh, oh he can't battle without Your mothafuckin' crew now Yeah, exactly you cannot match me You had wack punchlines Wheelchairs in Degrassi Fuck do
propeller (what) Keep fresh just in margielas Diamond lane running thangs ain't shit you can tell us (don't tell us nothing) Done everything, ain't shit
Aheh you don't wanna be Involved in this one, huh? This here, this is This is gonna be a blues number but, first I wanna do a little bit
Bring the troops in I'll fuck around and let 'em loose then We'll give 'em blues then Oh fuck it, call me Bobby "Blue" Bland Aye you a fool man
pollinated by the "Be" Pac called it the rose that rose from concrete How do you define divine that finds street? "Hip bop," the color of my leaves Not
this shit Nothing but clout chasing mixed with women HELLA lit Tommy surveying the scene Realize Danny the fiend posted by bar, fantasize bout getting
Fake watch buster can’t bust me I ain’t working that move Cuffing these bitches, I ain’t Loving these bitches, you do it Riding round the city, no
work pissed off at your boss Just man, just please do what you love in life So many people, they always say, "Oh I would do this but," or "I can
can’t hit ‘em sooner You oughta be on the dodge ‘cause you the loser (What’s your plan) You ain’t nothing but a fraud, no excuse, do your job Getting paid
it's just thought What can I do to take my mind off shit Sometimes you're showered with love, but it dries off quick Somehow I made it to this day, I
see a foot in the trunk I don't know why they keep playin' They better re-plan I'm giving them the blues, Bobby "Blue" Bland Together we stand
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