Lyrics:
gotta place, you should go to Sam's
You ain't gotta band hit up will.i.am
And I won't forget
They encourage people over there to eat by
Scream it sing it
People they whispering
It don't get no realer
Sixteen with a body he a killer
Running around with a stick like Donatello
Man these niggas out to
Murder
Fuzzy
Guitars Gathered Together
At France And Grooving On A Heart
A Lot Of People Tell Me I Have A Fake Heart
Stand by Your Guitars free Heart
Smells Like
this bitch always on my mind
Thought you’d always be by my side
Guess you’re only here for the night
I want the bands for real
I wanna make a mill i
Standin' on a corner
Suitcase in my hand
Jack's in his car, says to Jane, who's in her vest
Me, honey, I'm in a rock n' roll band
Ridin' in
to niggas, perfect your own speech
Shit is copper, it ain't worth the mic stands
Used by backup singers in Atlantic City bands
Niggas look on, and get
lotta others
That brass band blew my mind
When I joined in the second line
I felt the power of the gris-gris
Got my soul saved by the backbeat
I
living ima pop 10
Hold my records ima cop bands with all my friends in it the bands all Ben’s
Cant hold the thought order gotta do it like the life brings
these lies
I called him a snake 'cause he switched on me more than twice
Got switched by my best friend, man I swear that thing aint nice aye
I met two
dividends
And I stand on my feet, you ain't knocking the man
I been talking the talk Imma keep it a band
I got a drum like a band
Magic he gonn disappear if
I done touched a 100 bands
Im trynna run it up again
I did that shit all by myself
Aint need no fam aint need no friends
Im starting to think these
bitch (The bands)
The girls calling me handsome and shit (I'm cute)
But I still keep the 45 by my side like I had some bricks in the whip
If a fuck nigga
not switching sides
Devil got a deal for me
Times gon change when you feeling down
So don't let these people make you frown
It's all gonna be alright by
fuck now
I got some dawg shit today brought the truck out
Mann that's yo dawg shit like put them huns down
You be sliding by yourself with no guns 'round
inside of our soul
Some scars can't be covered with a band aid
Band aids only a temporary anyways
We as people need to reach out to the ones we love most
by Westlake, not Eastlake
Back when Boobie still worked at BK
I'm on the freeway, pushin' in my brother's Mazda with anacondas
Singin' with some prima
I'm from a place,
that's extremely deranged,
Ran by undercovers, snakes, rats,
And where the true people are caged,
We're the knackers,
You know what I mean
'cause I'm not proud of our
Whole shit, it's like, you know what I mean?
I usually just make shit 'cause it look cool
But people's
sign that something's wrong
Now the eager crowd
Hangs on every word
But the sounds are slurred by the singer
Till the people feel every aching part
Standing on the corner
Suitcase in my hand
Jack's in his corset
Jane is in her vest
Me, honey - I'm in a rock 'n' roll band
Ridin' in a Stutz
Standin' on a corner
Suitcase in my hand
Jack's in his car, says to Jane, who's in her vest
Me, honey, I'm in a rock n' roll band
Ridin' in
engineer in the train sittin' in the shade
Strummin' with the rhythm that the drivers made
People passing by would stop and say
"Oh my, oh my, what
There is a sign that something's wrong
Now the eager crowd hangs on every word
But the sounds are slurred by the singer
Til' the people feel every
the railroad track
Old engineer in the train sitting in the shade
Strummin' with the rhythm that them drivers made
People passing by would stop and say
Oh
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