Lyrics:
with you
The Casanova legend must have been true"
I said, "By the way, baby, what's your name?"
Said, "I go by name of Lois Lane
And you could be my
endless
Wishing I stayed the better me
Wishing I still was reckless
Now I live to fulfill my destiny
Chillin with different friends
And now I'm in the hills
up on the ends now
Turn the music off but the scent loud (Loud)
Rep my city, make my friends proud (Uh uh)
Fight for the culture, go ten rounds
Twelve
a reflection of your heart. That words alone could never capture. When I write a Christmas song, it is almost always born from a moment in my life, inspired by
to crash
More booing from the crowd
Along with some cheering
I really came from nothin' my
Nigga I'm supposed to brag
You was on the block in the 90's
Okay
Lets go, pour the milk in the bowl, make sure its ice cold,
Hold my hand on the top so it won't overflow.
Forget playing outside with my friends from
To all the coons, I say "Hi!"-de-ho
Produced by the mighty pro
Crazy Kay Gee kickin' hit's like Karate Joe
Always with the mind every time to
Blame it
ever run into any members of the tree dog night?
Joe shermy once i...
Oh! they are my favorite band!
They're so professional, I mean...
So creative...
get into this lets take a little leap
Back in time before this shit get really deep
Selling cocaine this shit was far from cheap
Little by little
And sat there with the
Flag in the background
(or maybe a rustic scene on a
Little backdrop, plus the flag) and stared
Sincerely into the camera
And told
And her friends wanna help but it's hard to tell her
Hard to let her know that her man's possessive and aggressive
And she can't even see it, but for them
loud, funny
And mad cool he kept it so real
With me from the jump, like
"Stay away from all these bitch-ass
Niggas none of them are your
Friends" Him
backyard
Liar
But Joe said
This is no lie; I speak to God all the time
And he told me to head west
So I'll take my Part Three, from the hill with
Fat Joe, TPain shawty
[T-Pain:]
Shawty I couldn't help but notice
That you were sitting on the sideline
I got all the material thang
That chu need
from the suds
And the tears they're pourin' down on me
Send me out to sea and take me to a place
Where the whiskey's a little more sour
I guess
rough
But he had a grandmother that supported the household, with a beauty salon she built from ground up
And he had a little brother, regular nigga up in
My thoughts are junk
So, junkyard is my home
So, I am stuck
Can’t take it any more
To leave the junkyard
I need a little help
To leave the junkyard
I
garden shed
But I never crucified little Biko, that was completely highschool
psychos
Stinky Bo Hoon and his friend with the pumpkin sized head
I sing
chase it with booze, one little taste it'll do
Maybe I'll take it and snooze, then tear up the stage in a few
(Hello darkness, my old friend)
Fuck
careful
My life been moving fast real helter skelter
With rooftop vibes and sipping mai tai's
I used to run with niggas from out the Bajas
I posted up in
is like BOOOP
You can't touch the Krush Groove
I live by the lunch table
Touched fables
Ducked labels
Lookout for the one he'd abide with the terrible
motherfucker did I studder
With my brown paper bag, here to represent the hustle I'm out
[Fat Joe]
Coka baby man you know I already had money
Definition
, friends how many of us have them?
I'll get you high and I'll get down
I'll get up and I'll get around
With a little bit of help from my friends
(With
Consider this the beliefs of Nick Romriell
Mingled with comedy
I desire a small subset of the population on earth
To receive it
I'd like to bear my
.jpg/300px-Jarvis_Cocker_(2012).jpg "Jarvis Cocker")
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