Search results for feeling good by michael bubl

We've found 25 lyrics, 100 artists, and 100 albums matching feeling good by michael bubl:


Albums:

The Cooldown Experience: George Michael Vs. Michael Jackson (The Sunset Lounge Orchestra) · Good Good Good! (Edmundo Ros) · Good Feeling (Supershake) · Feeling Good (Hutchinson, Hutch) · Feeling Good! (Xavier Cugat) · Feeling Good [Hit Pack] (Nina Simone) · Feeling Good (Jean DuShon) · Feeling Good (Art Blakey) · Cuts Across the Land/Good Feeling/Big Bird (The Duke Spirit) · Feeling Good: The Very Best of Nina Simone (Nina Simone) – and 90 other albums »


Music: Michael B. & di Lorenzo
Lyrics: Michael B., di Lorenzo & Pete Smith

Verse 1
You're part of some heaven, but you're feeling like hell.
treated me like a heart that was used
But I've gotten over you
My heart is free it's my recovery
I'm feeling better.

I feel good inside the heartache
Girl you're so sad
He was the very first love you had
But he hurt your heart real bad
He just led your feelings a stray
And on a holiday
Go
the house they hung in
He wants your money, only your money
He'll make you feel good for a real fast twenty
The bill is passed and the dollars go fast
A parody of "Riding With Private Malone" (Written by Thom Shepherd and Weed Newton. Recorded by David Ball)
New lyrical adaptation by Cledus T. Judd
don't fear death
I'm so selfish, I bought 80 pints to drink 'em by myself
A swimming pool full of drank, I dive in like I'm Michael Phelps
Louis
Cause I was on the Mega Drive more time

If you're feeling me put your Pinot Grigio high
This ones for my G's in the North side (Racing down Ilford
prove anything.

Oops!

Now I'm in the house, feeling good to be home,
Till Lisa starts blowing that damn saxophone.
And if it was mine, you know
First let me hop out motherfucking Porsche
Ion want her if that ass don't sit like a horse
I be balling on these niggas got me feeling like sports
First let me hop out motherfucking Porsche
Ion want her if that ass don't sit like a horse
I be balling on these niggas got me feeling like sports
WRITTEN BY KEVIN BACON, MICHAEL BACON

She woke me up late last night
She said something don't feel right
I think it would be best for me
To get this
that you do
Because stupid is how everybody sounded
Nigga you think you know me, but only if you knew me
Homie, you would leave me by my lonely
I'm
donging 'em down like Shawn Michael does and I'm like a pyscho
Fuckin' suckin' the butt like liposuction
Up and down with the tongue twister, c'mon
the hands, it feels good
Feels nice and warm in here right now
I'm feeling free
If you feel free clap your hands
Come on
by that time, we are lucky having roland in the band. and he's
Just doing great songs and great guitar work he's doing. and a good pal as
Well. he's
the hands, it feels good
Feels nice and warm in here right now
I'm feeling free
If you feel free clap your hands
Come on
blown out
(No more daddy's little girl)

You a big girl now, in a world, where these niggas are foul
You could be aborting the next Michael Jordan
blown out
(No more daddy's little girl)
You a big girl now, in a world, where these niggas are foul
You could be aborting the next Michael Jordan
Your
this)
Basketball (That's good enough?) Ha ha ha ha

[Magic]
Where the ballers at huh huh
Where the ballers at huh huh
y'all where the ballers
these niggas trying to take down
Break down, tray pound, eight rounds
He ain't feeling nothing from the waist down
Hit up, lit up, he never gonna get
by them Kurds about them dollars and cents
It was never my transaction it was however I did it
I was impressed with the whips
I asked my father how
in the game,
And by my faith in all good things come to those that stay true.
You know what I’m saying, and it was happening to me for a reason
You
If Michael Jackson came alive right now
He'd ask you to smoke one for him
So in his honor
You niggas Spud Webb, coming up short
Think you're Dee
If Michael Jackson came alive right now
He'd ask you to smoke one for him
So in his honor
You niggas Spud Webb, coming up short
Think you're Dee
these niggas trying to take down
Break down, tray pound, eight rounds
He ain't feeling nothing from the waist down
Hit up, lit up, he never gonna get