Lyrics:
the sexy singers that I wanna sex
I'd probably go to jail
For fuckin Patti Labelle
Ooh Regina Belle, she'd probably do me swell
Jasmine Guy was fly
takes me back in time
Oh I'm in a Christmas state of mind
As I sip a little eggnog
Sit down for the first time
Put on our favorite movie
Family by my
Give a fuck about a hater tho
If you ain’t down to hustle like a animal
Than Muthafucka see ya later tho
All I wanna do is stack chips
Ball like a ball
to make music!
Oh my god! (I know)
Rapman will not stand for this! (Go get 'em)
To the booth!
Uh, now let me hop up in the rap-mobile
Get so much pussy in
Check it..
Look..
Embracing all the hate that these niggaz spew
Compartmentalize
Use the shit as fuel
Once you cost me peace..
Then you gotta go
Got
it in the front
My Ferrari pulling out
And with all the stunts
Fans on the corner
With signs look at me
They jumping up and down
And they screaming
Frank zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
George duke (keyboards, synthesizer, vocals)
Tom fowler (bass)
Ruth underwood (percussion)
Jeff simmons (rhythm
Let me introduce myself to you
Wrapped around these feet are my own shoes
My name's not Frank, but I am always honest
If your name is Kurt, lets both
pride
And then she'd bring out that worn out family album
Its faded pictures some with corners torn
She'd laugh and poin and tell me funny stories
And put me down on my knees
I wrote an album a month
That´s what I´m best on i ain´t in a bed
But still I´m getting slept on
Trynna find another rapper
to catchin' a Wraith
Banana boy, up in my Bape
I'm tryna catch me an eighth
They tryna touch on my safe
I cannot barely can sleep
I gotta lay with my peeps
sure enough
Because I be on the way
I'm sorry about the way
The new album is on the way
I've been in Cali for some weeks
Mity's breaking beats down
One
we together we should put it in a song
Anytime you feel you drowning mane don’t let it guide you
Let me make an album bout it called Penn’s Bayou
By
Yo nephew, give me some of that No Limit shit
Yeah,
We got my nigga Fiend in the house
C-Murder in this motherfucker
Mystikal all up in this
The way they used it all up and didn't pay the man
And after 2 platnum albums, you call me weak
Cause I don't sell records in the East
Now what's funky,
used it all up and didn't pay the man
And after 2 platnum albums, you call me weak
Cause I don't sell records in the East
Now what's funky, I say
Put down the beat, lay down the cut
From the booth to streets, fuck everything up
I’m known to be trouble, but they still love me
Can’t tell me
of course b
You should know I'm a scientist
Women see me and start thinking retirement
Getting what mines
Down in the quarry, and that is the end of the story
You can’t expect success by sitting down,
Get yo ass up,
We gotta outwork these niggas that’s what bro told me,
Work ethic superb only myself can hold
without a curfew {HA!)
Smile I hurt you, had me goin' berzerk too
I'm guaranteeing she'll be leanin' in the coupe
Fiendin' for your loot, little demon
Or be inspired
So lemme say this in case you tired
I'll be the greatest by the time I've died
Bitch I'll have a reign that conquers time
My next albums
thats a perfect release
Bought my bands, all my friends are deceased
Ten toes down but I got me a piece
I'm making money by rapping on beats
They be
by Sinatra, light cameras that shoot ya
And I'll bring action, like the law of attraction
Not to be written in the scriptures, trapped caught like
The LORD is my light
Arms clinched in the fight
I ain't really trying to fight
I ain't really with the hype
Type write slight right by the light
I
.jpg/228px-Frank_Sinatra_(1957_studio_portrait_close-up).jpg "Frank Sinatra")
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