Lyrics:
playing clean
He plays by intuition
The digit counters fall
That deaf, dumb and blind kid
Sure plays a mean pinball
He's a pinball wizard
There has to be
there for me
Believin' everything they feed me
I'm seein' demons i wake up screamin'
Who'd believe me or was I dreamin'?
Five fingers on the 45 chrome
in CB4
Set up a contest, I'm coming
I'm taking the dough
They wouldn't pick you even if you had a afro
So don't try me, you better walk by me
I'll do
back, stay back, I'm in the Maybach
This ain't James Brown
But it's the big payback
Watch me zoom by, make it boom by
What up to all the ladies
Hanging
make her ass bend over
At the same time make her do the dishes
Oh oh oh double middle finger to the picture
Handgun got a nose like Pippen
Girls come
didn't
Every time you text me
And by the time I'm replyin'
It's too late now I feel a way, way, yeah
Oh, and I gave you more
I gave you more than you
And them Nike kicks running your life
Your ambition been driven by them
Cars that you like i know some girls that's
Faster than Tech N9ne
Self esteem as low
And I got birds flyin' south, boy
Yeah, I'm too "Brrr" to be a Hot Boy
I got them birds by the flock, boy
Yeah, I'm too cold to be a Hot Boy
I'm too
when your homie barely blink
He just done powder only at seventeen
You know the common statistic
Inspired by hoop dreams
Now hire about street schemes
Can't put my finger on it
But I know I want it
I'm willing to try another way
That is, if I get by another day
Back and forth, I don't get anywhere
an illusion
But I might as well try might as well try
She had rings on her fingers and
Bells on her shoes
And I knew without asking she was
Into the blues she
finger tips
So when I squeeze the rubber grip
Release the clip, then leave the clip
see-Cypher Pigs can't identify it
The true and living God, son,
i’m smokin’ pot again
No you not the Man
My new crib, I own alotta land
Smokin’ by the sand made it from the bottom
I ain’t have a pot or pan
Money,
hot
Fuck sunblock, when them guns cock
Fingers inch, trigger click, guns pop
Oh and problem when them guns blaze
They'll burn your ass a
Little more
Hit my head
on the edge of space,
and it really hurt a lot
Stopped a river's source
with my finger,
and it became a road
Sympathize with amimals
mother's booming heart.
Tiny yolk body, tethered like an astronaut,
Adrift in the tranquil spume of desolate bliss.
Tiny fingers inching from chubby
Your admirers on the street
Got to hoot and stamp their feet
In the heat from your physique
As you twinkle by mocassin sneakers
And I thought my
You're so clever, so smooth and debonair.
You're so clever, and you never seem to have a care.
You grew unflustered by storms or humid sticky
On my fingers
Can you see it in your heart? Ah
And when you try
To break my spirit
It won't work
Because there's nothing left to break
Anymore
tonight
Come home with me, little Matty Groves, and sleep with me till light"
"Oh, I can't come home, I won't come home and sleep with you tonight
By
Maybe we'll make Texas by the morning
Light the bayou with our taillights in the night
Eight hundread miles to El Paso from the state line
And we
all furrowed,
And wrinkled with care.
I kiss the dear fingers,
So toil-worn for me,
Oh, God bless you and keep you,
Mother Machree.
Ev'ry sorrow
listen, ah, do you know how...
Do you know how to get to the chateau mormon from here?
Not exactly...is it by the, by the airport?
No no, we don't, we have
Your admirers on the street
Got to hoot and stamp their feet
In the heat from your physique
As you twinkle by mocassin sneakers
And I thought my
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