Lyrics:
I had a friend called Joe,
When friends were hard to find,
He had a restless soul,
And something on his mind,
One day I went away,
and then
Meow-meow-meow-meow
We might have to sample that for the album
Hahaaaaa the cat album by the dog
Meow the Jewels meow-meow-meow-meow
Meow-meow-meow-meow
different from the average Joe's
So I confront them with the biggest chain
but it doesn't rate albums, I believe it is the brain
So I'll remain free while you
corrosion
Burning my soul now I'm Sick coz I Wrote this
Shit getting thick like my dick down Your throat Bitch
Beat comes back like my dad never Did
So relax
off
By the realest MC, and that's me
Joe Crack the Don, I came from the streets
Knee deep in the game, other half in the streets
I got that permit
daddy's daddy rolled like a stone, denying his lead role
My daddy broke the chain
Far from perfect, close to G.O.D. though
He parented hard like Joe Jackson
Like my mind and heart
It might make me soft
But I know the cost
So I'm paying with my love
For the souls that's lost
In this rap game
Full of deafness
"Well, uh, you know, Joe?"
"What, Bobby?"
"Uh, you know I hold the keys to time travel
Way down in the depths of my mind!"
"Oh, you have them
That Utah Copper Company sure is mean
"Now by the whites of my eyes
"You Union men need to organize"
Joe Hill was away five miles or more
When two men
Crazy Joe was an honest soul
Until he lost his mind
He stepped out of his car that day
And walked the mile line
Those who tried to reconcile were met
try? Yeah, try this
(Dream, this shit go dummy)
Haha, they think I sold my soul
When you drip like this
They think you sold your soul
When you drip like
Because I can Jam like Teddy if you let me
A Goodfella but still rugged like Joe PESCI
My style is mad funka-to-the-delic with the irrelevant
shit
nieces so atleast i wasn't alone
Uncle Maurice, he used to beat me on them bones
Or that Joe Montana til the TV wasn't on
My granny rest in peace and now
make my raps bigger than life
But not knowing how to market it right
Turned on the radio
Only cat new from the West
Coast was playin' was Bishop
And by
in some polo
Hard to trust a soul I’m always rocking by my dolo
Keep my circle small and I could never let my bro’s go
I’ve had too many stab wounds
going down behind my dogs, but I ain't Vick
Tell me one album I put out that ain't sick?
No, I'm not the Doctor but I produce the same shit
The whole
Donatello
No honor amongst fellows
It's harder than sitting with a blind man and
Trying to describe yellow
Got me feeling like killer Joe
My life the album
Ratin latent, and perpetratin
My album's love mics, tough like dirt bikes
You get frantic, New York City, run and panic
California, I switch
Because I can Jam like Teddy if you let me
A Goodfella but still rugged like Joe PESCI
My style is mad funka-to-the-delic with the irrelevant
shit
a beggar
To the tee
To the letter
Fuck a lotto
U gotta get up
Fuck aopa
He can’t get up
What’s in my locker
A lot of shellings
G*n cocker
Not a wetting
Beef
bust, fuck up their flow, Yuk untouchable
Platinum make a nigga tuck his gold, Ice up his robe
My lyrics touch your soul, make bitches rush the flow
I
when you rep that Strange Music
Suck my soul and I'll eat your funky emotions
Rock out, rock out
Rock out, rock out
Do my own thang
What they
filled to capacity
With all souls possessed by my flow and its speed
On this radio station over thousands of watts
And the rollers can't stop my knot
Media
To all the coons, I say "Hi!"-de-ho
Produced by the mighty pro
Crazy Kay Gee kickin' hit's like Karate Joe
Always with the mind every time to
Blame it
.jpg/300px-Jarvis_Cocker_(2012).jpg "Jarvis Cocker")
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