Lyrics:
Or twenty-twos, now tell me, who the honey for you? Chuck
I wanna be your chick
I wanna be down for you
Do you trust me? (Yeah)
Love me? (Yeah)
You puttin'
arm-wrestled
I'd say that you won
My baby, ride easy
Ride high in the saddle all day
If your lovin' is good
And your cookin' ain't greasy
Hitch up the chuck
Because we're sick and fuckin' tired
Of being mistreated by the undefeated
Power to the seat that can't be beat
Probably gone is the head that make
trying to be
The illest with them Die Hard
Fans like Bruce Willis pow pow
I'm in the cut like alcohol in the wound
But I'm tripping like I popped
Adderall
Icewood
Cause you know that he would
Do the Blade Icewood
Cause you know he'd wanna make ya
Feel good
Yo, I can't believe that your gone
Guarantee that ya
Ensemble:
We de mammy nuns!
We be lookin' good
Wit de nakkin' on!
Thing-fish:
We gots a nasty grin-n-n-n-n!
Ensemble:
We de mammy nuns!
We be lookin' good
violence be running through my head
Cold medina y'all, making me see red
Rapid fire Louie like Rambo got bullets
I'm a die harder like my kid Bruce Willis
violence be running through my head
Cold medina y'all, making me see red
Rapid fire Louie like Rambo got bullets
I'm a die harder like my kid Bruce Willis
Frank zappa (guitar, synclavier)
Steve vai (guitar)
Ray white (guitar, vocals)
Tommy mars (keyboards)
Chuck wild (piano)
Arthur barrow (bass)
Scott
soon
There won't be no street
For dummies to jog on
Or doggies to dog on
Religious fanatics
Can make it be all gone
(I mean it won't blow up
'n disappear
Frank zappa (guitar, synclavier)
Steve vai (guitar)
Ray white (guitar, vocals)
Tommy mars (keyboards)
Chuck wild (piano)
Arthur barrow (bass)
Scott
I, shall, not, be, moved
Uh, come on! Uh, come on!
Uh, come on! (Kick it, Chuck)
Drive-By Trucker, I play it loud, motherfer
Use it, don't abuse it
near is it love I fear?
Be there in bout a hour
She don't even know
But I love to bring her flowers
Feels so good it could never go sour
When she's in
And I started from the bottom
Like a snowman, ground-up
Like round chuck, and still put hands on you
Stayin' wound up is how I spend time (get
Frank zappa (guitar, synclavier)
Steve vai (guitar)
Ray white (guitar, vocals)
Tommy mars (keyboards)
Chuck wild (piano)
Arthur barrow (bass)
Scott
to taste it? Like a dog you gone chase it
I'm just sticking to the basics
Betty Crocker I'm a cake head
You better take it for you pass out
You might just be
I be getting duffle bag all by myself
Chuck Taylor on my foot I gotta press
No Stop until I'm getting paid
I need more cash, feed my fam you got me
wrestled, you'd say that I'd won
Ai-ee, my baby ride easy, ride high in the saddle all day
Your loving is good and your cooking ain't greasy
You chuck
Show it, Show it!
If she knew who I was, She'd be willing to Throw It
I remember that night cleaned my wrist it was glowing
She grabbed me by my arm
level
Horse n carriage dope on every level
Florida I'll be back
Sup I'm Slicked Back
And
I wear Chuck Taylor
Copped 1 2 3 4
Fresh clean walkin out
Once a cat was killed by care,
Only brave deserve the fair.
Buttercup.
Very true,
So they do.
Captain.
Wink is often good as nod;
Spoils the child who
night
Can't dream out here
Damn, it feel good to say I
Did my thing out here, i be
Hanging at the park after
Dark with the homies
Laced up Chucks, gold
shoes
I no send them rara
I just want to make bread
Enjoyment for my children's Children
When I'll be gone and dead
I no want to affiliate with sapa
I
as hell don't sweat it
Cause good things come to those who wait
By the time you finish your
I got love for ya, nigga
And I ain't forgot ya now that you're
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