Lyrics:
slipped
The Mac is cuttin records and punks are gettin ripped
Gangster I am, bust the lyrics like a drive-by
You wanna sleep? Well, it's lights out,
In the County Tyrone, near the town of Dungannon,
Where many the ructions meself had a hand in.
Bob Williamson lived, a weaver by trade,
And all
burn gusto pick ya urn
ninja give the Fooly back its not yurn
ninja give the Fooly back its not yurn
Cuntry Hippie light the bob in let it burn
In the County Tyrone, near the town of Dungannon,
Where many the ructions meself had a hand in.
Bob Williamson lived, a weaver by trade,
And all
run-down porch
They say he's crazy - a village fool - an hermit forsaken by the world
But he's a groovy fella, so treat him right and he might play you his
Robby...
Bob-O...
Bobby, there was something Sweetheart...
We wanted to say
Bobby...
Sugar...
Bobby bubi...
What have you been up to,
nigga! Yeah
[Verse 2: B.o.B]
I'm that nigga that you heard about by word of mouth
They probably say I change the music in the dirty south
Now that
Painting a picture like Bob Ross
Gotta play it cool, take it slow cannot take a loss
Painting a picture like Bob Ross
Gotta play it cool, take it
The seventh son of a seventh son of a son of a gun from Per-rr-rr-th
SPOKEN:
BOB: Say, Haggis
BING: What is it, McMaggis?
BOB: Where are you from, Laddie?
The seventh son of a seventh son of a son of a gun from Per-rr-rr-th
SPOKEN:
BOB: Say, Haggis
BING: What is it, McMaggis?
BOB: Where are you from, Laddie?
B.O.B
Give it to em shawty
I'm eons and eons beyond these peon's
Another human like me there will never be one
The planet that I'm from, I can't
people in a sea of distress
Keep your more to receive your less
Unimpressed by material excess
Love is free, love me, say, "Hell yes"
Low brow but I
people in a sea of distress
Keep your more to receive your less
Unimpressed by material excess
Love is free, love me, say, "Hell yes"
Low brow but I
got time to kill
I'm intricate to be up in it
So I defend every minute, cons hoping for dimes to deal
Perimeters occupied by a few chosen
To take
he makes the party Boing, Boing
Bob Digi makes the party Boing, Boing
[Mr. Tibbs]
I'm a country man at heart but a city man by nature
'cause even
conspiracy theories say they know I'm ok,
I'll drop seven more albums by my ghost from the grave
VERSE 2: SUFFA
I wanna die in Memphis like Elvis,
Senseless
Haymes, Dick Todd, and Como
The fact that girlies scream
They say will cause me grief
But if they ever stop
I'll find that I'm back on relief
It'll mean
)
Ignore Bob he get weird sometimes
It okay though, Tem don't mind
(Except when Tem allergies kick up!
Tem allergic to Tem! Hoives)
Tem Flakes, Temmie's
hold it down for the set
I ain’t got shit, but ambition only
They ain’t say nothing when I was lonely
Now I got nothing but shooters on me
We ain’t
em say my name if they don’t wanna say it
Ain’t going by my slave name who can shade him
No Illuminati lil' baby still illuminated
And they aluminum
people in a sea of distress
Keep your more to receive your less
Unimpressed by material excess
Love is free love me say hell yes
I'm a low brow but I rock
[Chorus: B.o.B]
My soul is getting weary, weary
And I know the ending is nearing, nearing tonight
So just say goodbye and kiss your dreams goodnight
And the flamingo Hollared by jingo!
What a vibrato!
There's a lotta talk about you, Bob!
And they're saying you're "off the cob."
Fake it, Mister B
Take
from her again
I think it's because she associates me with that bad night
That ended at Bob Evans, and I understand
And on the way home, I said
.jpg/220px-Say_Say_Say_(album_cover_art).jpg "SAY SAY SAY")
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