Lyrics:
For the young, inexperienced, not-to-bright Quayle to refer to the revered former President so casually as "Jack" was not appropriate. Comparing himself
Young miss, I don't know what's in your mind
So there's no misunderstanding, let me explain what's in mine
You are not my next conquest, no, your
saint-like in pure white, he's
Photographed as he walks not only by us
But by everyone else who
Happens to be at the beach
Today young teenagers with iPhones
Rise up all you fine young ladies and take arms for the show
Oh, we'll put your name up in the lights, put you down on glory row
Would you be
Oh, pick it up!
There's a bass guitar in this
Grenade launcher roars in a television sky
Tell me how many young brothers must die
Dance on,
Oh, pick it up!
There's a bass guitar in this
Grenade launcher roars in a television sky
Tell me how many young brothers must die
Dance on,
I was young I wanted to be a thug
hang on the corner, smoke my weed and try to sell my drugs and show no love
In '97, all this had to change
So
ever
I'll admire from afar, star
Keep doing all the good things you're doing
You got it goin' on, young lady
Jesus Christ, girl
You got it goin'
Rise up all you fine young ladies and take arms for the show.
Oh, we'll put your name up in lights,
put you down on Glory Row.
Would you be
Japanese, Spanish, Indian, Negro and Vietnamese
MC's, Disc Jockeys to all the fly kids and the young ladies
Introducin' The Crew ya got to see to believe
young American)
A pimp's got a Cadi and a lady got a Chrysler (you want the young American)
Black's got respect, and white's got his soul train (all
young American)
A pimp's got a Cadi and a lady got a Chrysler (you want the young American)
Black's got respect, and white's got his soul train (all
like a lady (Treat her like lady)
Light her cigarette if she smokes
Even (Help her with her coat), well
Treat her like a lady (Treat her like lady
the reason why
I treat her like a lady
Just treat her like a lady
Now I don't like the sound of the ground movin' 'round
Or winds spinnin' out of control
Its a difference between a hood and a street nigga
I’m the former but I parley with some fiends nigga
You’re the type niggas to go party off a bean
I've been touched from above
And you just can't get enough
Of little lady love
We maybe young
But only for a while
I may look brave
But boy that's just
of former lovers
It's common sense to treat the lady right.
Share dessert, don't order beer don't use your sleeve, you've got the napkin!
It's the little
yeah-yeah (yeah)
I'm on a different level with it
When I was young, I had several wishes
I tried to tell 'em to Michelle and Brigette
I used to ask 'em
Hey ladies, in the place
Girls, girls, girls
Hey, yo, ladies
Girls, girls, girls
Hey, ladies in the place
Girls, girls, girls
Hey, young ladies
let loose of her temper because her daughter was simply too young
To be pregnant at seventeen, all her hopes and dreams dashed
She knew she would get
me little boxes to put in my display
Until you’re over it
Until you’re sick of it
Expiry! Expiry!
Young lady, young lady.
Expiry! Expiry!
Young lady
Barefooted dancing lady
shakin' feathers like a hen
I really could get a li'l more drunk
but I prefer the state I'm in
I got so sick of these excuses
O strong oh ehhh ehh eh
Scarface on the beat yehh
Huu yeh na na na
Ye uhnnnn uhnn
Dammy Krane for the ladies
Sweet sweet lady
All the people know
Treat her like a lady
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
Ooh, yeah, baby
Whoa-whoa-oh-oh, mmm
Now I'm the kinda guy who don't believe
That chivalry is
_cover.jpg/220px-The_Cult_(Black_Sheep)_cover.jpg "The Former Cult")
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