Lyrics:
a barbershop quartet
Then I converted to Islam. Am I losing you yet?
Then I went back to grad school to study Foucault
Then the stock market crashed, I don't
the trees.
It was all the light I'd need
on that winding, mountain road.
A barbershop quartet rang out a chorus in the distance.
My old Kentucky Home made its
He disappears with sheers yelling "I'm going George Jeff"
Bathroom door sound like a part-mech barbershop quartet
Forced into war with itself
What
+Vivica+ and never gave her +50 Cent+ (ha ha!)
And I bet you ain't ready for war yet (uh)
My niggaz got stripes, who walk around like the Barbershop
barbershop quartet songbooks grunt old workers day
International town criers day
National beef tallow day. I couldn't have made that one up if you paid me
Diamonds singing like a barbershop quartet
Phone ringing had to go and get a line
Poured me up a line, In some lemon lime
Nigga tripping bout to go and get
people get fucked up
Droppin' em fast when Im blasten' blood splashes
Real, Real
Thats how people get fucked up
OK, yeah
Imma one man band barbershop
is ever exactly as I had remembered it so long ago
Is it illusion, or were these the thoughts that I thought?
I kept a barbershop quartet alive when
Baskin
It's my
Kind of
Party
Are you
Coming
Expose yourself
Be free
Come in
Going down on history
Drag Queens
Guitar heroes
Barbershop quartets
Strong man
I know four men who might turn it around
Hello, hello, hello, goodbye
Yes, we're your complimentary barbershop quartet
The men in blue, a show you
a Lady! ~ Oh yeah!
He's a Singer! ~ I'm a Singer!
Like Caruso! ~ Learned to do so,
In a barber-shop quartet
I once gave a hair-cut to a fellow one day
a Lady! ~ Oh yeah!
He's a Singer! ~ I'm a Singer!
Like Caruso! ~ Learned to do so,
In a barber-shop quartet
I once gave a hair-cut to a fellow one day
messy, I pick my nose
I like Rubik’s cubes I like barbershop quartets
Still live at home with mum and M-dog
I like cake I don't believe in regrets
You see
head them say...
(Whee...)
Oh me
Oh my
My song has just begun
Oh me
Oh my
Now my song is done
(Now stop...)
(You are most definitely
Not a barbershop
the man up in the moon
Have myself a time each evening sleep each day 'til noon
And the bluebirds I'll bet let sing in their quartet
And we'll harmonize
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