Lyrics:
married to my grind
Free pussy don't come cos na money i dey find
Duties absent only by birth i gat a dad
This really make me sad good boy turn to bad
home
Gimme good vibrations
Gimme good vibrations
I’m coming home the long way
Incase I pass you by again
Out of my luck now
Soon i’ll be out of time
It
not today
Good advice you gave
Now I'm too smart
I look both ways
Not the one getting shot by a dart
Nope not today
Nope not today
Lonesome in sight
I
Nobody gives a fuck
"The children have to go to school"
Well, Moms, good luck
'Cause the shit's fucked up bad
I use my pad and pen and my lyrics
I'll set you free
On the seventh hour of the seventh day
On the seventh month, seven doctors they say
I've got lots of good luck, you know they all
An the man, he took it back
I used to smoke cigars
The very best in town
But bad luck an trouble
Is bound to tear me down
It's too bad
Things are
of playin' the role of Big Jim's wife
She'd done a lot of bad things, even once tried suicide
Was lookin' to do just one good deed before she died
She was
at the door
Bimbam at the door/Then he'll bum no more.
Sweet bad luck on the waves washed to our island
The hooker of the hammerfast viking
And Gall's
Words and music by Renny Jones and Donna Cristy (c)2020
a leak, she mends me
I don't have to speak, she defends me
A drunkard's dream if I ever did see one
Good luck had just stung me
To the race track I did go
I've heard another one's gone for good
The press can sympathize
But do they really care
The way that people care
They did it all and paid the price
Nixon, here's mud in your eye
'Cause now she's wanted by the FBI
Then one day in the Outer Mission
The authorities had good luck fishin'
Brought her back
your life
I genuinely wish you the best
Good luck
Ben Jones guitar solo
wanna talk money?
Shit real that's all I could tell 'em
Just rap 'em up good so the dogs can't smell 'em c'mon
Brown paper bag (thank god for that)
line of flirting even that was played up
I Swear I'm down bad
Yet I'm laid back
I ain't making moves or nothing
I just hope to get luck
Well knowing me
Niggas dyin'
Niggas been dyin' for 400 years
(I'm a motherfuckin' nigga with an attitude)
Only the good die young, so that makes me young and bad
Puttin'
and the feeling's like a drug
When I'm at the spot man, imma I go and crush
But I don't make good choices when I'm feeling buzzed
Now I'm feeling buzzed
Now I'm
who wish me ill die slow
Yeah
Matching when we pull up
All black I call that good luck
If you can't tell by the cap
And you don't know where I'm
got me lethal 2 steps up good luck cause we not equal.
Bandz all in my pocket, bad b****s they jocking, haters hate so they watching, see what I got
I've stopped searching for four leaf clovers
Because where's the luck for the kids who can't count passed 1
Too many people aren't batting an eye when
the good the bad the hideous
None the less memories
703 Where I did most of my growing
It's what molded me into me
So much life lived saw the good the bad
how bad I want you to stay with me
So I'll hop in that old Ford and put it in drive, and wait for you to come back to my side
Ain't that good at fixing
Yeah this that, this that Houston Texas on a summer night
This that Riding down Miami Beach with a bad one, with a bad one you feel me
Rest In Peace
a noise
You were good
And you hoped you would receive
Reward as they said
And you believed
Rough Justice?
Tough luck
But it seems that no one gives a fuck
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