Lyrics:
The seeds is sown
The flowers grow
They squeeze the soul
It's RSO
The farm is owned
Black Skin Tones
I Love them all
They heal my soul
The seeds is
(Uhhh baby...heyyy....)
(Uh ohhh...)
Yeah yeah I'ma be a player for life (ummmmm yeahhh)
Cuban link, clk, yeah I'ma be (baby) a player for life,
and switch,
I could do 'em all with the flip of a wrist.
Even as a pup down on the farm,
I never met a beast I couldn't charm.
I was the monkey in
lonely
Every night we on the phone
Every nigga in the city wished they owned u
I look up to what u earnings
More I spend time with u I am learning
Give no
priceless
Not for sale pls
No 419
Got them famzing
Got them farms in
Player player player baby
Promise that you will never ever play me baby
Rolling with dem
I wanna thank you, pimps and players
For sharing your game with me
I wanna thank all, of the hustlers
For showing me your life, on the street
Waddup Ya'll? Its Farmer in the hills
And when I'm in the game I like to farm on these mills
You know that I am the king of dusting
All that mining
My parents knew these people who
For all their faults were very nice;
They owned a farm whose "Olde Worlde" charm
Earned it the name
(ronnie wood, rod stewart)
Miss judy she was moody
Owned a sweaty farm in old alabam
I was just 18, crude and mean
All I needed was to get my
His father was a farmer and sharecropped a farm for the man who owned the property
He had gained employment at the local limestone quarry
When
back swell
Only givin head to those niggaz who rapped well
Owned a black cell, flip it, sippin on Whitman cool mints
Rumors spread, half a G she took,
Nation of Sheep
Ruled by Wolves
Owned by pigs
Raised like cattle
Locked in our pens
While they sleep in beds
Hypocritical sadists
Decrees are broken
This tale goes back a long time ago,
in a countryside of Scotland.
There lived a young woman named Margaret,
who owned a dairy farm.
Margaret always
in the small town of Wawa, Pennsylvania. The farm was owned by George Wood, who started a small dairy processing plant on the property in 1902.
Someone said he owned a big old farm
When they get parked let's mosey down
And look it over, that won't do no harm
That must be the widow in the car
sweet baby's arms
I ain't gonna work on the railroad
(You ain't gonna work at all if you can help it)
So, I ain't gonna work on the farm
I'll lay
Earth becomes a farm
Farmer takes a wife
Wife becomes a river and the giver of life
Man becomes machine
Oil runs down his face
Machine becomes a man
and Sunday too
I go to see my Pearly Blue
Before you hear that rooster crow
You'll see me headed down the road
Now old man Flatt he owned the farm
From
you bitches I be all up in it
Boss player is the name I’m bringing back the game (Oh no)
Imma show you bitches how I fucking did it (Oh no)
Gotta tell
baby's arms
I ain't gonna work on the railroad
(You ain't gonna work at all if you can help it)
So, I ain't gonna work on the farm
I'll lay around this
must belong to his great uncle someone said he owned a big ole farm
When they get parked I'll mosey down and look it over that won't do no harm
Well
Westside, how you do it boy?
I went from, nothin' to somethin' now they all wanna see me fall
And the player haters hate to see a thug nigga ball
and Sunday too
I go to see my Pearly Blue
Before you hear that rooster crow
You'll see me headed down the road
Now old man Flatt he owned the farm
From
and Sunday too
I go to see my Pearly Blue
Before you hear that rooster crow
You'll see me headed down the road
Now old man Flatt he owned the farm
From
.jpg/300px-Alien_Ant_Farm_Concert_-_U.S_Army_Garrison_Humphreys,_South_Korea_-_2_July_2015_(19521030961).jpg "Alien Ant Farm")
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