Lyrics:
I work
When I benefit so much
Hey does this day go by
Now there are no reasons why
Or
Excuses
Oh it's up to you
It's up to you to decide
Some call
(Hey) Woke up I had the same clothes on
I had on last night (damn)
I must have passed out (wake up)
And cash is just like the clothes I worn
poop
But just rock, a by, rock, a by booboo
Let your fingers do the walkin, hey I'm talkin, yoohoo
Can ya, can ya hear me? Checka, checka 1-2
Ayo,
Thank you
DEXTER:
Drink up, chap.
Ah, please don't eat that glass, my friend.
Have you heard about dear Blanche?
Got run down by an avalanche.
MIKE:
No!
Needs race, needs race
This guy says the horse needs brakes
He says that the horse needs brakes
Needs race brakes, needs brakes
Hey wait a minute
touched her (tits)
Sucker MC's, I'm killing 'em, I'm so sick of seeing 'em
Silly (shit) when they rhyme, like that red rugby shirt worn by Gilligan
Plus
goals in my life to come into fruition, hey
Feel the vibes and feel it right
We outside till the end of the night
Spark a blunt, pour some drinks, yeah,
Dixieland money
Can’t you see that money HEY (hey y’all)
Don’t you smell this money YEAH
Lookin like smellin like feelin like Dixieland money
South side
Lets go
Drill sangeet
Jab pakde kalam
Saare sar hai kalam
Mujor sar de garam
Chalo karte khatam
Ye hai tera bharam aja one by one
Flow ghatak
Hey, Mamacita, it's nice to meet you
Your green eyes swallow me down like a bottom feeder
Oh, whoa, whoa, now
She painted her naked self on my eyes
I can
no more losses. My heart was pink, i turned it purple
You a munch and he a bum. I think he deserve you
I talk third-person
'Cause i know I'm him
For
(Hey) Woke up I had the same clothes on
I had on last night (damn)
I must have passed out (wake up)
And cash is just like the clothes I worn
your fukin ass
That's when your ass be shaking all over the place
Who's the bum cuzzin' along in your hi fi
Stckin' do hitting the bong its
love
I got my game face, gun in the place, blaze the place
With that yard weed, you know the god we remember that
You know we, ten second rolly, bum
Time: 2:52 beach bum music bmi/beachead music, inc. ascap
Producer: brian wilson/russ titelman
Engineered by jim linker and rob klohs at dolphin
boy ya free paper bum it's called I got connections, like Poonanny to erections
I saw selected sets son for my selection stretchin' sections etchin'
pregnant and you’re tha father so, whatchu gonna do about it??
*masturbation*
Hi, my name is Tina, and I'm looking for someone that goes by the name
Hey, ladies drop it down, just wanna see you touch the ground
Every opp shot
(Grah, grah, grah)
Ok he get hit by a flocka
Smoking on gz they get done
to jack it up)
You'll be alright tonight
[Verse 1 - Wyclef]
To all the girls I cheated on before, it's a new year
Hey yo, dear queen, by the time you get
Ba-dum bum, ba-dum
Yeah
Uh-huh, yeah
(Yes sir) Hey
(Yes sir) Yeah
Look
You was there standing all night
Your heartbeat matching with
made my fist smell like shit
(Hey)
You a bum ass nigga, you ain't got shit
(Huh?)
I'm a rich ass nigga with a chopstick (yeah)
Them 223's get your block
for love
And when the daylight comes, I be seein' mad bums
With no shoes on their feet plus nothin' to eat
I can't save the whole street, so I feel
Hey, how you doing? (Yo, what's happening?)
Yo, Snoop, you know, I just love your shit
You are just so fine, and you- (ayo bitch)
(Bring your black
Hey, how you doing? (Yo, what's happening?)
Yo, Snoop, you know, I just love your shit
You are just so fine, and you- (ayo bitch)
(Bring your black
.jpg/269px-Sister_Rosetta_Tharpe_(1938_publicity_photo_-_headshot).jpg "Sister Rosetta Tharpe")
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