Lyrics:
cross-eyed thinkers
Aching for the pleasant spiritual affection of a sonic dynamite
in the hot scenery of night
Then I saw Bob Dylan and Timothy Steele
'em
They call me Bob Dylan, cause "I'm Not There"
Lowly woman, disgusting, I eat raw food
Expose myself to bacteria for sport
Tryna break through
If you
Every time I look at you, have to do a double take
'Cause you're a kaleidoscope of Kristofferson, Bob Dylan and John Wayne
Been swallowed by
I had a dream about my man last night
And my man came by the studio
And his name is
Busta Rhymes in effect, Shaheed is in effect
Phife Did-awg is
at Bob Dylan!
Whatever ya do, the most important thang is to nevah NEVAH practice! That'll kill yah originality! And yah have to sing preferably with
Fuck no!, Fuck no!, Fuck no!, Fuck that!
I'm coming in anononomously, I'm an monogamysy
Get off the top and their leaving with their novelty
Dear Kyle
You a pawn in a narrative
They needed you
I've heard all the comparisons
Like you're Dylan Roof
Now The hate is deep
Growing every day
Cuz
it's us, back at it like smack addicts
Stuck with a bad habit, turn fans to fanatics
On a victory lap, we stop by in Pop-eye
I drop my last 16, so sick
Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door
WRITTEN BY: BOB DYLAN
Mama, take this badge off of me
I can’t use it anymore
It’s gettin’ dark, too dark for me to see
I
Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door
WRITTEN BY: BOB DYLAN
Mama, take this badge off of me
I can’t use it anymore
It’s gettin’ dark, too dark for me to see
I
A woman on the radio talks about revolution
when it's already passed her by
but Bob Dylan didn't have this to sing about
you know it feels good to be
We sat in your window
And talked until dawn
You played me your favorite Bob Dylan song
The one that your mother
Loved to play
I closed my eyes,
A woman on the radio talked about revolution
when it's already passed her by
Bob Dylan didn't have this to sing about
you know it feels good to be
Milton. Cell phone mute like Paris Hilton.
Open window, halfway built-in. Times a changing like Bob Dylan.
Twenty-pound bird black as could be, cold feet
grinning huh
Like I'm project pat but more wit a kodak smile
Stylin on these niggas with fashion that's coming out
In a few seasons believe or stay in denial
care 'bout nothing 'cept to get this album out dog
Fuck e'ry body in the world of this outlaw
Coming to you live from my home studio
In south side
don't need no bad romance
I just need to relax and unwind
The times they are a changing
That's word to Bob Dylan
But I'll remain a Rolling Stone
Till hip
I'm dodging the debacles like pot holes in Jamaica
We cut down the weed bury the paper on them acres
Martin had a dream bob got high I still do both
When I was in that jungle we was toting all sticks
You talking beef I'm getting cars flipped
Have a nigga screaming out ooh awe shit
The album coming
Coming up close
Everything sounds like welcome home
Come home, and oh, by the way
Don't you know that I could make
A dream that's barely half-awake
I met you in a club in Atlanta, Georgia
Said me and my homeboy were coming out with an album
You looked at me like, "Yeah, nigga right"
But you
rap fun, friendly, fresh and new
MC Lars in the place, yeah boy, I thought you knew!
"But... were you actually born in Stockholm, Lars?"
No, but my
kind of Axl Rose
Or the next Bob Dylan
I was out of control
Enough of the rainbows gold
It's takin' a toll on me
Enough of the rainbows gold
The second time
She bought a record
She told him she liked Bob Dylan
but the truth was she didn't like his music at all
::This is the lost lovers song
Oh,
Discuss these by in coming album bob dylan Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In