Lyrics:
Joe Hill wrote a song for the
Free speech fight of uh, 1910
And it was introduced on the streets
Of Spokane by Haywire MacMclintok
Him what, He was
slipped
The Mac is cuttin records and punks are gettin ripped
Gangster I am, bust the lyrics like a drive-by
You wanna sleep? Well, it's lights out,
Robimy to gówno by dotrzymać w życiu kroku
Aby zachować spokój w mieście bez uroku
Wersy pętle są formą buntu
Ten syf baby stoi wyżej od funtów
Jedyna w
Orleans whoadie duckin' them Warrants
You get stung by my MAC like a batch of Hornets
Time is splurge like the San Antonio Spurs
I got rings like a Laker
confined
I can't see
Son's mind like a bum knee
Mine's number one he
Left you tongue tied
One time
Go out on my roof
Go out on my roof
I just go out
puttin' they hands on these bums
I don't be touchin' 'em (Nope)
I don't know wherе they pussy been
I don't be fuckin' 'em (Goofy)
Bitchеs call me boss
You
Walk up in dat bit' too clean, I'm froze
They don't fight you where I'm from
Like the beat, I keep a drum
You ain't got dough lil' boy, you a bum
She
Walk up in dat bit' too clean, I'm froze
They don't fight you where I'm from
Like the beat, I keep a drum
You ain't got dough lil' boy, you a bum
She
Kool-Aid gives you hella 151 November dog so run kitty run
We gon' drink it until we dumb-ditty-dumb, bum-bitty-bum
Here Kansas City come so give me some
Smokin' Backwoods and moving bags
I was getting protected by my savages
Yellow school buses that's a Xany
Causing me to sleep and I ain't plan it (yee
out, I'm the C-A-S-A-N, the O-V-A
And the rest is F-L-Y
You see I go by the code of the doctor of the mix
And these reasons I'll tell you why
You
nigga come up and pull up on your block
Want a rich nigga come up and pull up on your block
Bum bum, tell her get out that Honda (let's go unh!)
Girl
Good times and bum times, I've seen them all
And, my dear, I'm still here
Plush velvet sometimes
Sometimes just pretzels and beer, but I'm here
1 By 1 By 1 By 1
Aim Laga
Ungali Chala
Carrom Zara
Karde Garam
Aim Laga
Ungali Chala
Carrom Zara
Karde Garam
Le Ke Striker
Sti Sti Striker
Le Ke
Powiedz jeśli umiesz
Ile chwil jeszcze zostało nam
By składać cały świat
Który buduje każdy na spokojnie
Przyszłość drzemie w wyobraźni
Za sobą setki
Have you heard of one Humpty Dumpty
How he fell with a roll and a rumble
And curled up like Lord Olofa Crumple
By the butt of the Magazine Wall
All my ice and all my trees, all my bitches in love with me
Rock star life, the life we lead, surrounded by rock stars
My niggas rocking gold like
I'm lookin rett scum
I'm huffin jenkum
Out of a sket's bum
One look yer ded, son
Yer think yer know depravity cus of wot yer saw on PornHub
But I'm
Ohhhh... that's how you feeling right now Tone?
You know they can't rap with us
Black by
Black by
Black by popular demand, on demand
And I'm Black
Staring at this tool for an age of ugliness
Workplace is corrupt, nothing's gonna change
The road looks better as every minute passes by
Should be
healthy blunts
I'm finding comfort in my personal space of pain
I'm just a sculpture getting shaped by mistakes I've made
Got performative friends weasels
skillet
And I provide you a ticket to visit your creator
My little mini-mes can't eat a favor
My sweat and toil ain't for the love of labor
I live by
player
Toy by Fischer Price. A lovely sound
Yeah
You got kids. I have more
You have three, I've got four
Who is he? He looks glum
What a loser, what a bum
dinner with their families
While I'm bathing by myself in the nothing that surrounds me.
Nothing at all, chipped closet walls
A light with a pulley, a bag
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