Lyrics:
the time of day
From The Atchison, Topeka And The Santa Fe
Here she comes
Whoo hoo hoo hoo hoo
Hey, Jim you'd better get the rig
Whoo hoo hoo hoo hoo
the time of day
From The Atchison, Topeka And The Santa Fe
Here she comes
Whoo hoo hoo hoo hoo
Hey, Jim you'd better get the rig
Whoo hoo hoo hoo hoo
the time of day
From The Atchison, Topeka And The Santa Fe
Here she comes
Whoo hoo hoo hoo hoo
Hey, Jim you'd better get the rig
Whoo hoo hoo hoo hoo
jeans
Har det formidabelt, meget fint
Ambitioner, Jimmy Iovine
Gider ikk', hvis ikk' der skejs i
For jeg vil gern' vær' meget rig (meget rig
eller rød?
Når jeg (Når jeg) ringer på +45
Hva' vil du gøre?
Yeah ah ah, yeah ah ah ah
Bli' rig, eller dø i forsøget, yeah
Yeah ah ah, yeah ah ah ah
Vil'
rings but it's not his voice
Seems the highway patrol has found a jack-knifed rig
In a snow bank in Illinois
But the driver was missin'
and the ice
Jessi-Jo said you had better beware, understand and take my advice
Oh, Jessi-Jo, where did you go? There's an oil rig on my right
Jessi-Jo, I
after pyramids,
What would you rig that with plastic explosives and trip wire?
And if we lost our arms,
And lost our voice
Could we trick
No more gas in the rig, can't even get it started
Nothing heard, nothing said, can't even speak about it
On my life, on my head, don't wanna think
the store
why'all never had a run-in before, with the likes of an outlaw
Predicate assassin, smashin
Open shit, rig scope, focus it
Give niggaz what they
The spider, dropping down from twig,
Unfolds a plan of her devising,
A thin premeditated rig
To use in rising.
And all that journey down
went
Rigs came down and the money got spent
And the wisemen saved for a rainy day
The fools packed up and moved away
The hotels closed and the bars
with gasoline, mixed with antifreeze
And you just some light beer nigga
Sig Sauer spit a wig for ya
Sip oil better than an oil rig, dig?
All your
the time of day
From the Atchison, Topeka, and the Santa Fe
Here she comes
Whoo hoo hoo hoo hoo
Hey Jim, you'd better get the rig
Whoo hoo hoo hoo hoo
the gears eighteen wheels
Rigs and robots riding on their heels
Fine tune robot making a sand box
Heats and infernos burning like Draino
Down
the operation
Don't expect some generation
Cyanide ride down the turnpike
Hundred hours on the miracle mic
Grinding the gears eighteen wheels
Rigs and robots
Well, my daddy was a world class trucker,
Took my momma on a four day trip
And she swears to me that
I was conceived at a big-rig dealership.
They tryna rig the culture, you could say they vultures
You dead sauce, so why the fuck you reachin' for that holster?
Gangbangin' is a test,
them highways
If you can't grow it then you buy weight
For that big body in that driveway
Crime pays, I'm on the highway
Big Rig Truck, wanna fly away
emcees like lumberjacks cutting trees
Rip microphones like Freddy rip kids
Like car rigs do bids
My burner's always there
To the back, to the side,
Are you ready to go now
Well my daddy' was a world class trucker
He met my momma on a four day trip
And she swears to me I was
Conceived at a big rig
of bud
With ya drop-top, six-four rollin' on dubs
Be bangin' in the trunk when
I'm out in the club
Ain't got no rigs to chain
Cause ya keeps it hood
Down among the pigs, did some hearty rigs
I played some hearty jigs, the water round me bubbling
When off Holyhead I wished meself was dead
Or better
Connected with an air hose
And I had me a real good rig
Went on a binge for one week
Got to where I couldn't speak
To anyone oh I was high
It's that wine
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