Lyrics:
He took a sip from his can, and asked me if I had any songs by a man called Bob Marley
I said I did, started to play one and he sang and danced along
know mantis legends?
How it was it all started?
It was fighting off this blackbird
Although it was only a tenth of the bird's size
it
a checkered double-knit suit drove up in a large El Dorado Cadillac, leased from BOB SPREEN...
("Where the freeways meet in Downey!")
...And he laid
Flexibly bob and weave
Chasing after are own feelings of ecstasy
To take flight involves my game tight
I'm a meteorite target in sight
Week after week fuck
I'm walking on this way paved by so many greats
Dax, Em, Cole who inspired me to write this text
Bitch I'll never stop climbing mountains, I'll never
And my nigga crizzee baby, and my nigga digi baby
Want to spend our cheese, smoke all our weed
No tattoo on titties, sayin' Bob Digi
Or shacrizzee baby,
but she'll gone be allright
Cause I'm falling through later on tonight
Now looka here before we go
We gotta stop by seafood galore
Two
or pa dukes?
There's two scoops a raisin in the sun
Brothers try to rally up, then dilly dally for some room
Bird peckin', doulbe deckin', rubber
or pa dukes?
There's two scoops a raisin in the sun
Brothers try to rally up, then dilly dally for some room
Bird peckin', doulbe deckin', rubber
or pa dukes?
There's two scoops a raisin in the sun
Brothers try to rally up, then dilly dally for some room
Bird peckin', doulbe deckin', rubber
to lose my mind.
Saturday’s not a good day for hanging out by yourself:
too many drinks, too many drunks, too many little birds.
We can find a better place
Silent Spring
By Bob Orwig
Copyright 2021
(chorus)
Will there be a silent spring
Where the birds no longer fly
Will there be a silent spring
Before
when I'm at the table it's the Futterman's rule (wohoo)
Workin' on my game 'cause it's time to tax
I'm on a crazy mission to wax Bob Mack, shit
Up
Man you hell of a pussy for
The shit you did last night
I could tell you nervous right now by
How you moving your hands right
Yeah please don't fuck
Welcome to yet another song by the guy
With the relaxed flow and unnamable style
An immovable object yet i move myself miles
With my sick beat
I like my fast food faster
Syrup got me slow
Like a turtle 'round this ho
And I'm flyer than the highest-flying bird around this ho
Whats the word
bitch about face
And then I gotta split
Sorry baby, sour grapes
She wine, baby don't leave
I duck that bullshit, bob and weave
Everybody tripping, but I
share flows, when it enter your earhole
Shit, it's a thing of pure beauty
Everything that's spittin' is written by yours truly
Nigga, when Sean write
hope
Our time spent was not wise
I'll see you later 'cause there's no such thing as "goodbye"
There's no more reaching you
By now you should have gotten
It's the MOB
Cookin' them birds up
The customer ears just perked up
They Tired of gettin' that work from
Them hustlers whippin' that dirt up
I'm
this program to bring you a special bulletin
Bob Digital located inside the hood again
Last seen helpin the crack fiend in detox
Smackin this cat in
this program to bring you a special bulletin
Bob Digital located inside the hood again
Last seen helpin the crack fiend in detox
Smackin this cat in
a Harley (oh shit)
I'm just tryna to smoke a blunt, no Bacardi
Doin' a buck eighty in my new 'Rari (vroom)
Roll up, spark up, like I'm Bob Marley
Get high
Nigga, you a clown, I can feel it by your gestures
I don't fuck with sideshow bobs, you a jester
No you're not a dog, you're a pet, bruh
Need
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