Lyrics:
living it
Me an you no breaking up
Press gas
Rev it up
Bae come gimme you love
Looking like a pic from a magazine
Favorite magazine
A pic from a magazine
magazines
And she's going nowhere
She's going nowhere too fast
She's pushing 90 on a roundabout burning gas
I'm moving on
Moving on
From the place my feet
from hemp stems as you can from a corn stalk. Which along with solar energy would be a great way to avoid dying for oil in Saudi Arabia.
In the 1920s
You don't know Holy Spirit is the plug?
Ewepu the plug madu ga ku nu isi na wall o
Won ni won wa mi
I am in Christ
Nothing but joy oh
I am on vibes
I am
everywhere, I be so paranoid
And gold diggers dig until they find oil
And I'm sittin' here reading what was written 'bout what I do, what I didn't
I ruined
boring, it's cause I stuck with the drill
Drilling right near the ocean, slick like oil floating
On the track I'm explosive, runaway locomotion
Yeah I bet
noire,
Le cadeau empoisonné.
Bidon de gas-oil, bidon de gas-oil,
Diesel ou sans plomb,
Indice d'octane.
Dans les pharmacies,
Ampoules, gélules,
ooo
Make your boys collect ooo
Ooo oil my head
Oluwa gee m nti muo
Afuro onye m ga akoziri
Ikpere m di na ala
Aka ka m ji na akoru nsi
Onye bidoro olu
Well now, listen people let me tell you some news
I'll sing a song called the crude oil blues
We're low on heat 'n' all
We're low on gas
And I'm
Light up a cigar
We're going far
We're gonna scar
Wars are made to take the oil
Kill them on the soil
Using all the gas till we boil
Wars are made to take
20 gas bags got a whole lot of xotti
I be on oil got me feeling like a Saudi
Imma fuck your bitch in a R8 Audi
Diamonds in my tennis chain looking
with Halliburton Oil and Gas
He gave me a paper which he asked me to sign
What is it? I asked him, he said, “Nevermind,”
Said if I just put my name down
the magazine
I might paint on her face like its maybelline
Charle Sheen
Aim at yo' Top like i'm Charlie Sheen
I'm smoking gas mean green
Bitch i do the dash that
you need
But I can't get a gallon of gas
There's no more left to buy or sell
There's no more oil left in the well
A gallon of gas can't be purchased
you need
But I can't get a gallon of gas
There's no more left to buy or sell
There's no more oil left in the well
A gallon of gas can't be purchased
no PS3
Or four or five, when ya boi collide
Wit this instrumental, Instant homicide
Spit dat gas nigga, come get high and vibe
On these monkey bars
his leather boot
And this could be the shining hour
Based on all those mad beliefs
In money, oil and angel powder
In the new age magazine
Fuck big oil
Fuck big oil
Fuck big oil
Fuck big oil
I'll drive down to the Mobil
That's right there down the street
Drop a match in the gas tank
Just
Lonely hearts
They're just made to break
There ain't no spare parts
Ain't no oil to change
Honey, I ain't accustomed to lose
If I want somethin'
refuses to rise
What will we tell the children
When they are taken
By surprise
Did we go too far too fast
With our foot down on the gas
Is it too late
We’re running out of oil
It’s going to be hard to live
If we don’t find some alternatives to oil
Because pretty much everything we do uses oil
Let
My truck still needs a new set of rubber
New taillight, transmission and oil change
The back seat still stays covered
With empty beer cans
High brass
They mad we got the juice and wanna taste
Sipping two cup kill puffin Kill Bill
Hit the gas never let the oil spill
Never been your perception of real
Opolo yato si machine
Omo oro niwaju magazine
Gbewon sare bi gabberson
Tule hey osama bin laden
Opolo yato si machine
Omo oro niwaju magazine
Gbewon
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