Lyrics:
side today
[Curtis]
I tell ya now, its got to end
No more trustin them, my friends
We're gonna change our style, change our tone
Look for songs we sing
bangin my songs
As i roll anutha joint an' make a call on da fone
It's Pretty Tony it's on an' crackin my nigga
It's ya big bro I herd ya rappin my
'cause I'm a white
Male and I always wave
To the cops when they pass by
To go arrest a black guy
Anywhere I want, I could get WiFi
I'm on the beach with
song
Me, Squeaky, Flex and J, on Saratoga Street
Smokin white boys, bumpin dopefiend beats
Eighty-eight, my pockets wasn't straight, but I was makin
Eres malo, monte eres para tu (get up, get up, get up, get up)
Get up and do the biz, our style is the wild
Hit you with a spell whether Jew
Eres malo, monte eres para tu (get up, get up, get up, get up)
Get up and do the biz, our style is the wild
Hit you with a spell whether Jew
In attempts to moderate they ask why we don't write love songs.
What is it that we sing then?
Our love of life is total, everything we do is
this ASAP like
Hail Mary Jane
Very plain Perrier
Larry fades from the set
On the jet, got my Jim Carrey on
Baggage claims, Chuck Ts, Barry Bonds
She been
and not eating much
While others spend lotta
Money on a wealthy brunch
And this can be a love song
A good vibration
For our generation
Together we can
Light life yea
Like how that sound
Hard times yea
Better days still
Around
Got the plain white tee
Wit my rip blue jeans
On my way to get our piece
and ties
Taking our clothes off and feeling each other
With fingers and senses and mouths and eyes
Incurring the glances of old disapproval
From
greater
A meager inheritance, pardon our arrogance
Those with Americans, guide them to places much safer, ay
My bones is where the beach is white
would get everybody on the same track)
You niggas could learn a lot by now
(I'll go first)
Stone Mountain
Give a fuck about these haters man
I'm
the corner.
Close to the end, down by a river.
Seasons will pass you by.
I get up, I get down.
III. I Get Up, I Get Down
Anderson/Howe
In her white lace
You
around and sing along – you can’t do anything wrong
Cause it’s a crowd pleaser, everybody knows it, plain good sing-a-long song
We got a brown eyed
Lady Lackless
Approaching white doors, no skipping no half-steps
Seven things standing before me a warning
Ring and white wedding dress blackened by
we was ready to work in a go-go bar
One two three four
Let's see if you've got some more!
People seemed to like our song
They got up 'n danced 'n
out thanks and complaints
We burned fat
Arranged bones in the flames
Each bird a great catch
Our songs were spells
And our spells were plain facts
wrong
Gangstas don't live that long
So now they trying separation
And sending black folks in white coats to infiltrate our congregation
Tapping into
will clear the way
Oh rowing out to the misty old plain
Sirens wail in a dangerous game
but we've no dear let them hear our own song
and they just might
the picture ain't pretty cuz it's filthy with corruption hidden in the nitty gritty
Our name been shitty since that song by Billy and then we got Eddy with
pass you by
I get up, I get down
III I Get Up, I Get Down
In her white lace, you could clearly see the lady sadly looking
Saying that she'd take
loyalty is sacred
Circle smaller than a tip of a blunt
Fuck designer shit looking basic
Plain Black Ts even when I make it
Stacked up cheese we keep it low
Way, this is our way
Sometime soon, robots will generate countless perfect songs
Way, this is our way
You heard it as souls
That's what I heard
How will
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