Lyrics:
and
This is where he grew the food that he could
And smoked magical bushes
From hollowed redwoods
He bathed in the lakes and
Slept out under stars kept
the Mook punch
The last few months I've been
Plannin' this guy body
Cause bodyin' guys is my hobby
My body got a arm/leg/leg/arm/head
It's a God body i swear
Form better niggas, club night, no sparkles
Forty wolves on deck with burners in their snorkel
Criminology, pea soup Wallabees
Ghostface Killahs
I had a dream about my man last night
And my man came by the studio
And his name is
Busta Rhymes in effect, Shaheed is in effect
Phife Did-awg is
tuck in your chin
Pail by your bedside
Now the breathing begins
Oh, oh God
Just let me get through this last one
If you let me make it
If you let
tuck in your chin
Pail by your bedside
Now the breathing begins
Oh, oh God
Just let me get through this last one
If you let me make it
If you let
To where I'm unfresh, undressed and yawning
Well, what is this craziness? This crazy talking?
You caught some small death when you were sleepwalking
It
know I'm tryna save her
Man, them niggas tried to play me
Man, 'til I got this paper
You're nobody 'til somebody kills you
"Blast for me" the last
tryna save her
Man, them niggas tried to play me
Man, 'til I got this paper
You're nobody 'til somebody kills you
"Blast for me" the last words from my
of music (those who hear your voice)
(Liken you to an angel) think of their cry of undying support
Is this her Angel of Music? (Follow where the limelight
Alan, that guitar saved your life that night
She screwed you over
Yeah, it sure was something to write a song about
I don't, I don't miss that night
It's a scandal that'll pack 'em in the aisles!
ANDRE
Damnable!
Will they all walk out?
This is damnable!
FIRMIN
Andre, please don't shout . . .
It's
clowns
The mourning bands told whom they'd lost by last night's phantom messenger
And they spoke their only words in English, "Johnson, Nixon, Kissinger"
That's right, this game is Raid
Do you like elves? That's a dumb question
Everybody likes elves in their lives
'Cause I like elves and so does Raid
isn't it
Oh, kind of, kind of
I-I've been sleeping a lot
Um, everybody out there that's watching, everybody that's watching this world
This world is bull-
on tour, I went to my home
Which is the first first home I’ve ever had
Huh
And I walked around and I said
What am I gonna do now
In this house? Am I gonna
the first part of the vocals and this part the guy from Jefferson Airplane died last night
Marty Balin, a patron of the 1960s “San Francisco Sound”
It’s
the dust,
Till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust.
I replied: "this is nothing but dreaming:
Let us on by this tremulous light!
Let us bathe in this
Everyone always counted me in last
Grew up like a outcast now they see
Me shining they tuned in like the
Forecast the name is bubby never
Shyd away from my
another
Long and sleepless night
A hundred crazy voices call my name
As I try to pass them by
I almost can believe that she is here
Here, In the glow
the premises
You really reaching to maintain your relevance
The main reason why I don't have any friends in this
Is when I'm in the room, I'm addressing
Ayy, yo, this goes on and on Shy
Everybody's doin' their own thing from hookering to drug slang
This goes on and on Shy
Everybody's doin' their own
Ayy, yo, this goes on and on Shy
Everybody's doin' their own thing from hookering to drug slang
This goes on and on Shy
Everybody's doin' their own
children
And then their children
And then their children
By then let's hope this place is still around
Maybe even for their own great grandchildren
To be
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