Search results for good kind by the wreckers

We've found 2,318 lyrics, 72 artists, and 100 albums matching good kind by the wreckers:



But Jim's got a kind of a squint Yeah
I dug up my last check from out of the mine
Now I feel like I've done my stint
Jim got an army pension
When he
honey she could teach you a lesson
In just a quarter mile and I'll smoke you good

In my 455 rocket
The kind the police drive
Couldn't harldy wait
that you walk by
I like the way you swing your eye
I like your kind of love
That's good, baby that's good

Every night I like the way you beg for
that you walk by
I like the way you swing your eye
I like your kind of love
That's good, baby that's good

Every night I like the way you beg for
your golden boy
I will obey ev'ry golden rule"

Get told by the teacher
Not to day-dream
Told by my mother:

Be good Be good
Be good be good be
your golden boy
I will obey ev'ry golden rule"
Get told by the teacher
Not to day-dream
Told by my mother:

Be good be good
Be good be good be
your golden boy
I will obey ev'ry golden rule"
Get told by the teacher
Not to day-dream
Told by my mother:

Be good Be good
Be good be good be
betcha go hip hop, hurray or hurrah
        But the ahhs and ohhs is my kind of news
        Pop your tape in, put your car in cruise
        I never heard
be blue but it's a
Ah oh oh yeah
A good kind of lonely
I'm the happiest
When you're by my side
But there are times
When we must be apart
Then I
your glass down, or end up in the trunk
You wonder when my dope styles sound kind of varied
The Pictionary, man with my backpack, I'll Carey
Mariah
your glass down, or end up in the trunk 
You wonder when my dope styles sound kind of varied 
The Pictionary, man with my backpack, I'll Carey 
Mariah
for some kind of signal
And I remember Magritte in the cold hard rain
As I walk underneath the metal of the elevated train 

Ain't it good to be
throat is kind-a dry

I'm gonna work to the good Lord calls me
Be workin' to the good Lord calls me
I work until the good Lord calls me
It'll be in
like a magnet
The way that crazy always sticks with its own kind
I don't believe in ESP, but you can read my mind

Good people know
Good people know
Good
kinds of people 
The good, the bad, and everyone 

There'll come the day when everyone passes him by 
What will he say when nobody answers his cry?
feel good 'cause they got steel
No blasters or cap guns son, the real deal
K-A, microphone wrecker E-D
The O, the you, the be	, the L to the E
New York throw chairs 
The punk funk sound to make a sane man flip 
Girls rush the stage  fagots cold dip 
Low to avoid the caps and blows 
By
When I saw you on 8th street
You could make my life complete
Baby yeah, yeah, yeah
You're my-my kind of a girl

And when I saw you by the jukebox,
Take my tortured heart by the hand
And write me off

Do you know I cry
Do you know I die
Do you know I cry
And it's not the good kind

Well it
we have a hit it

Know how to taste, know how to slide
By how to take a break on a man’s 9 to 5
Bout to realize that it ain’t gonna be good enough
your glass down, or end up in the trunk
You wonder when my dope styles sound kind of varied
The Pictionary, man with my backpack, I'll Carey
Mariah
thing that 
Ever happened to me...

And I'm gonna do all I can
To do right by my man
To be the kind of woman he wants me to be
I'm gonna do all I can
on asking why my life is passing by,
And I'm left up high and dry,
But it ain't no good to cry,
So I shrug my useless sigh,
And I trust to things that
and good clean fun
That's my kind of country
Roots run deep as they come
In my kind of country

I'm from the old school
Live by the golden rule
Ain't
alive, I am what I am and I'm 
Damn good to be a no good, hooded by 
The wiggle in the middle, simple to party thumps 
They call me the wickedest man