Lyrics:
better
You ain't never find no lover
In your arms
In your arms your arms, your arms, your arms
Give me your heart, I'll keep it
Room for all them
eatin' 'til Richard Simmons comes to my house
With a chain saw to cut me out (me out, me out)
I'll fuck your wife, I had sex since I met her
Too busy
The last time I saw Richard, it was Detroit in '68 and he told me
"All romantics meet the same fate someday,
Cynical and drunk and boring someone in
You ain’t amused by the fake types
Pull up outside in a wraith type no
You keep it real keep it genuine
When they play that Ginuwine
Pony girl you be
in the pool with ya mama
Attack her by the legs then I pull her to the bottom (yeah)
Twist nothin' up like a condom
Slap it if you fuckers got
it's hard to hold on, remember
The night is the darkest always before dawn
Won't you please dry your eyes
Cuz my love is real, and I'm here by your side
No Ceilings
Wait a minute
Wait a minute, where you going?
Ain't my business where you going
I just want some before you go and
Wait why you in your
will grab your attention
Make you blast this in your schools
Get you some suspension
But don't really though
That's not a good look
Just make sure
on the run, Aiken County tried to stick me
And I just got out on bond, Elliot he paid the ticket
Told my daughters and my son, hold your tears and fight your
richer
Brand new watch up on his arm damn Tyler got a Richard
Clean ass nigga looking fresh you can see it in his pictures
Swing that stick just like
know me, you notice
Upgrade my jewelry, I hope that you notice me
New Richard Millie on, I paid four
"How much your other watch?" I don't even know
of the xans, it fucked my emotions
Yea, I dun went through different phases
Young as fuck but I wish I grew up in the 80s
Yea, I'm on an island like Cayman
Off
could try to run? but it ain't no escape
(No escape)
Hang you out the window' by your legs off the firescape
(Let em' dangle)
O's in the pot? looking
Yah
(Where's the bands?)
Yeah
I'm on a mission (I'm in the kitchen)
Ain't doing dishes (fucking these bitches)
Just call me Richard
(Yeah, yeah) yeah
to probation I'm high
Richard Mille and my white vest
I might put my darg to the test
I just put the TVs in the rear
And I put some VVs in her ear
My nigga
at night, she gone by the mornin' (gone)
Uh, ooh, open it up
Uh, ooh, open it up (yeah)
Uh, ooh, Kriss Kross jump
Uh, ooh, with a bale in the trunk
in a terrible twist to this story
Richards had gone off the road earlier
On the snowy evening and
Struck a snowbank two men happened
By in a pickup
I'm in this bitch with Yung Gunna, yeah, ho, YSL (Pi'erre, beep)
Walk inside the club, I smell like YSL (Pi'erre)
Fuckin' on your thot, your bitch,
If we open in the desert, bet the fiends will find us
Steal from us, leave your arm in a meat grinder
Spaghetti Bolognese, that's Amanarandos
Moving
alarm, the fire alarm (I can't be myself, free myself, by myself)
Fuck your bitch, call emergency
Ain't no bitch never heard of me (freak myself)
I
with the mic??? in their hand???
Digital Underground ??? ???Humpty Dance???
- ???The Humpty Dance is your chance to do the hump/Oh, do me baby/ Do
dot around the sun.
This great universe was created by our God.
I will honour Him, for He has remembered me
PRE-CHORUS:
I will exalt Your name in
push the chips in
I put all on the line
Now I’m feeling like Fritz
And Richard Porter
Combined
And I took all of this time
To show em this by design
This Dance (The Wedding Song) by Richard Schuttler
I take your hand
cnd you take my heart
We waited so long
For the music to start
cnd as the band
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