Lyrics:
There was Everything but the Girl
Bob Geldof has no ego
That man should get the Nobel Prize
By the time he sang the solo on Feed the World
I thought he
Moving forward, dearly beloved
Make I and I recall
Bob's Son set in Babylon
Atop the very high mountain
Carving prophecy into rock
Blood from
Steady tryina fuck me
Ratchet nigga, no dry cleaners, don't wash that, it's brand new
Got problem homies, got grip niggas
And my ocean view straight water
mags från en RS6
Min gang, mhm, äter mest
Drive-by, shu, RFX (yah)
God bless, uh, Jah-Jah
I'm in love with her body
Ex-spliff, Bob Marley
Skjuter
juggle, 'cause life is my type of struggle
Seven-fifty IL's, and tales of fly females
Who caught in these sales wit live details
Shades by Cartier, and big
and constantly misunderstood
He saw I had some talent but no way to sell it
So I went to fucking bed and in my dreams, he sent a message
A dark room, barely lit by
way
Red solo cup couple hundred bucks I’ve got my cash straight
Case of beer, my family's here no fear protected by my gun safe
I’m hungry, been working
to all the Gods in Now Rule
Melacasis, Sea and my man True Born
I want to give a shout to Big Bob
Scooby Real and the whole Mob from the Stallion Mark
What happened to Jah’s child
Maynard James Keenan
He must be counting bodies like sheep
Outta raw dog reservoirs
By God you will not kill me in my home
Embrace :
Bring it by
In the sunlight
Let it shine
In the moonlight
Without the sun
There's no daylight
Candle lights in the nighttime
Let them
right
Go and get you some, go and show 'em something, this a new thang
Yeah, I let my nuts hang (yeah)
Knock your top off with LeBron or Dwyane Wade
right
Go and get you some, go and show 'em something, this a new thang
Yeah, I let my nuts hang (yeah)
Knock your top off with LeBron or Dwyane Wade
blacker
Jeans still skinny but my pockets getting fatter
Nigga playing real goofy gotta hold the line
Better bob and weave for you get a swollen eye
Slim g
(U dig U dig yeah)
(Leave Her lonely)
(I get it by my lonely)
(Ha Ha)
(What up Ob)
(Aye)
This that 3rd degree
This that roll it please
This that She
Written by Glen Burtnik, Bob Berger, Tommy Shaw, Dennis DeYoung
Lead Vocals by Tommy Shaw
Somebody lookin' for the answer,
Somebody dyin'
did it by my self
when you know know I guess you know god damn god damn I guess you know
I did it by my self
Oh really
All my boys tell me I go Rambo
I
who ran, looked a lot like me
She walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees
Nobody
Shoulda been a calculator
I'm so cold with this shit, count it in the refrigerator
Jewelry store, green bob bought my first Cartier
Threw em 30 thou
never seen dirty
Told me meet him at the waffle house, he got a clean .30
On my Domino's shit, only took a mean 30
My folks always on time yeah I'm
and you know, lookin hard in the video. But, you know. Reality is..it's like I've always told to my husband, it's like, look, you know, we look at Bob
venues she has always enjoyed most.
(Spoken words are in italics)
London Bridge is falling down
See the people in my town
They're the ones who bring it
Ray's almost got my ass kicked
Rather just chill in the yard in my casket
Call up the hoes, have em swing by the tomb
And get a little sticky stank up
you out to dinner, to your favorite spot
Feed you an aphrodisiac just to get you hot
Drive-by movies, by a cemetary
If my corpse could talk then I would
love being with my friends
We barely get by but have the best times
And hope it never ends
We drink all day until we fall down
So we can do it all again
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