Lyrics:
The Catacombs Of Ur")
From the expeditionary journal of Doctor Ignatius X. Stone:
Giza, Egypt (March 17, 1890)
The heat here is damnably oppressive,
without you
The rain never came down this hard
Bright colors dull now that you're gone
I pray you rescue me from myself
Save me wit' ya' kindness
Lord knows
draw your inspiration from
When you're creating your music?
MGK: You know, it's funny on my last
Album, I wrote the song "27
" and I was talking about
shoulder... ? Aw, you're fulla shit, man... ah, listen, by the way, before I go on; did you get those white albums I sent ya with the pencil on the front... ?
The way they used it all up and didn't pay the man
And after 2 platinum albums, you call me weak
Cause I don't sell records in the East
Now what's funky,
to the fam by the Sullivan
Hercules mulligan
When you knock me down
I get straight back up again
It's lent right now
Tryna think what I gave up again
Oh that's
Days till we decease decrease as time goes on
One day you're right next to them, (snap) then they're gone
Stings from the distance, but the memories
shitty, I hate it
I'm not liberal, now, I'm a leftist (you're, you're a leftist)
I'm a leftist (what's the difference)
I'm critical, you heard
Combined
"Will-you-go-out-with-me?" my heart pacing
She said "sure" I took it as a "yes, you're amazing"
Thirteen years old my ego went from the pavement
Shout out through the roof,
into my midnight slumbers.
When you're lying awake with a dismal headache and
Repose is taboo'd by anxiety,
I conceive you may use any language you
and feel heat
That make my cheeks blush
Close my eyes and feel your touch
Get chills when you slip me tongue
Picture me with you
Could my fantasies of teen
Listen, Wiley
I told them youts I'm gone again
See the Devil ain't working
No more no more "vroom my long again"
And if I smell any fire in
Listen, I don't kick it, I punt it
I'm so wicked you want it?
My tongue's just tired from lickin' my fingers and countin' up hundreds
So I bought
think my dad's gone crazy," yeah, Hailie, you right
Dad's always mad cooped up in the studio, yellin' at the mic
You're sober and bored, huh? (I know)
Young Sinatra
And now we on the fourth Young Sinatra motherfucker that shit is crazy man
And I remember like, I used to steal quarters from Lenny just
[Chorus]
Another night, slips away
In other words, I should say
There are no words, you should say
There are no words,
Ms. Hill, you got
the morning after and now all the laughter is gone
Time to reflect on what you did 'cause they saying you wrong
I'm sure you had your reasons dawg, I don't
Your days are numbered
So your silver tongue got a taste of the high life
Now you're hungry for more
Swimming with the sharks like you belong
You
oh! oOoh
Put your hands in the air now bounce
Love is just a history that they may prove
And when you're gone
I'll tell them my religion's you
When
With G strings
You see there's too much swinging
From the hips
Read my lips
As you watch what I say you're hopin' that my tongue slips
But I made Linda
The way they used it all up and didn't pay the man
And after 2 platnum albums, you call me weak
Cause I don't sell records in the East
Now what's funky,
used it all up and didn't pay the man
And after 2 platnum albums, you call me weak
Cause I don't sell records in the East
Now what's funky, I say
Each one cut by hand, by master glassworkers"
She draws her eyes from me for
A second to look up
"Takes one's breath away to think about it"
Mum loves
them narrow hips
As her heroin lips touched mine
I feel like she slip me
The tongue with the pill
As my spine begins to shake now I'm
Addicted to this
.jpg/179px-Whitesnake_San_Antonio_2015_6_(Cropped).jpg "David Coverdale & Whitesnake")
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