Lyrics:
on the blacktop
But she'll beat you to the matchbox
Got a blunt in the sky with the clouds in her eyes
Yeah I know what I want
Drop it baby yeah drop it down low
When you go out, you want an obituary or a documentary? Which one you want Khaled?
(I want money)
A documentary, right?
(I want that too!)
We
Clearport jet shit, big dog status, yeah
Twenty rings, twenty chains, big dog status, yeah (it's Philthy, nigga)
Big dog status, yeah, big dog status, yeah
'Specially when you're sittin' on 20's they get nauseous
Standin' in the Azure with white Air Forces
You can catch me in the parkin' lot
Hollerin'
New Yorkers
'Specially when you're sittin on 20's they get nauseous
Standin in the Azure with white air forces
[Chorus]
You can catch me in
Killing these niggas, wrist might get time in the feds
I'm stunting, Evel Knievel, dirty Sprite by the liter
Let that top down on my Beamer til' I'm tired
as my family straight, read this at my wake
I gave 'em The Documentary and they scraped the plate
Twenty magazine covers, nigga look at his face
I can
Now they drop the megaton
And I'll pool energy, spin off like a cyclone
In the dark times... of twenty eighty one
We're lookin' 20 minutes into
get time in the feds
I'm stunting, Evel Knievel, dirty Sprite by the liter
Let that top down on my Bimmer til' I'm tired of balling like Tila
fucked with Mitchy Slick down in Daygo
Young General these niggas gotta spray for
You fuck around and catch 20 out this Range Ro'
Mane that beef shit is
a slut
She probably seen by one of them members
Ain't no struggling, bitch, I'm struggling puttin' this 20 in my denim
Put up 20 in LA, we blew a rack
description in my memories
And that must be your ghost taking form
Created every moment by me dreaming you so
And is it my job now to hold whatever's left
description in my memories
And that must be your ghost taking form
Created every moment by me dreaming you so
And is it my job now to hold whatever's left
never empty
The fifty dollar bag, we call that half century
Mi start mi own herb documentary
Bermy man a call that film 4:20, yeah
Weh mi say?
never empty
The fifty dollar bag, we call that half century
Mi start mi own herb documentary
Bermy man a call that film 4:20, yeah
Weh mi say?
this world with a grain of salt
Jesus gave me a wake up call
"It's 3 a.m." she said, "Who are you, Matchbox 20?"
She said, "Are you getting rest?"
G.I.s dressed with automatic rifles and fully armed for battle, fanned out on maneuvers through the woods, backed up by a dozen Blackhawk attack
I'm in my twenties with this flame that's a matchbox
And It's the same if you ask Rak
Cuz where I'm at I got the frame by a glass box
These doobies
again
I zoom right by ya
We zoomin' Matchbox 20 we boomin'
Bamboozled made your head spin
Hooked on to my rhymes
Got you locked
Girls with the clean spot
When I only touched a frog
I'm quittin' you Momma
Packing up and I'm gone
I grabbed my matchbox
Pair of socks and ham and cheese
Put it in my lunch box
There's a song that comes on every now and then
By Matchbox Twenty and about a minute in
I find myself thinking about a little bar out by the beach
There's a song that comes on every now and then
By Matchbox Twenty and about a minute in
I find myself thinking about a little bar out by the beach
being shackled to the paper
Broke free while hitting my in the pen dance
SellYourArtNotYourSoul
Waking 'em up with my internal matchbox
Rising Under
jovial
Magic carpet ride
But now all I see
Is decaying
Who you playing
Please won't you dissipate
You destroyed everything
This matchbox 20
Is so funny
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