Lyrics:
the border at Needles and heard the promised land on the line
Now where the Transcontinental dumps into the sea
There's a bar made up to look like 1963
Yeah, uh
Get up, ow
Ow
Knock it out this
Woo
Super highways, coast to coast
Easy to get anywhere
On the transcontinental overload
Just
Yeah, uh
Get up, ow
Ow
Knock it out this
Woo
Super highways, coast to coast
Easy to get anywhere
On the transcontinental overload
Just
Make me dance, I want to surrender
Your familiar arms, I remember
We've been going transcontinental
Got no car, we just take a rental
But we
Wait, don't let this line go slack
Don't go alone into the cold
Wait, don't give up on this yet
I know that there's more you haven't told
Wait, my
Make me dance, I want to surrender
Your familiar arms, I remember
We've been going transcontinental
Got no car, we just take a rental
But we
"Weird", as is "Weird Al"
"Weird Al" Yankovic
I'm not home right now
So feel free to come over and go through my refrigerator
Well, I guess you gotta find
Refrigerator, refrigerator give me a cold drift
And as a gift I won't hurl you off of the cliff
Refrigerator, you are starting to smell like rotting
she a rollin' south
Chuggin' right along, but you better watch out
cause the Transcontinental gonna run this old train away
This old train started
a random number up on your telephone
You ask if their refrigerator is running
Then you tell 'em they should go out and catch it
Buddy, if they ever figured
shit
Man listen to this
Don't y'all forget the ice man
Aight you want somethin' too fool
OK
Top of the line wine, Carlo Rossi, Carlos Rossi
Top
me
I'll be in another room when I hit from the back
Not to mention my refrigerator's taller than Shaq
So yippie-kay-yay, yippie-yie-yie-yo
If you
brought up
But it's all caught up to me now, karma's in the waters
Every line I ever said has got me in a corner
You might think it doesn't creep up
wit this Rossi shit
(...)
Man, don't forget the ice man
(E-40)
Oh, you want something to
O.K.
(Chorus)
Top of the line wine, Carlos Rossi
lookin' like a fool
Empty refrigerator, family chew up now an laters
No TV, just me there and I'm the MC
No gas, electric work, the house smell make my
the middle of the night
We're dancing 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light
Down the stairs, I was there
I remember it all too well
And there we are
Fuck nigga head in a refrigerator
Chef 'bout to bring it to the dinner tables
My bitch do lines like printing paper
Had to hide the cocaine from
like Juliette Greco
And there's me quoting pretentious chat up lines
From Marcel Proust, Jean Cocteau and Jean-Paul Sartre
Sitting by a gasfire in
me offensive
Hence, if I should draw the line or any fences
If so, to what extents, if
Any, should I go? 'Cause it's getting expensive
Being
While the transcontinental trudged along towards the west
To Vancouver, through the Rockies lay its route across the crest
From the east Beaver River
the trans-continental line
Silkworms swing their heads in time
Come along and you will see
We've got to find our way
Through it all, going through it thick and thin
face front line
I ain't never caught a case
I got away both times
Pressure bust pipes
Pressure make diamonds
If we discussing the rules
#1 is put
I like to keep it in the refrigerator.
Keeps the powder dry, and the action quicker.
Let me be your American Gladiator.
Find enclosed an adhesive
you could be such a hater!
Getting my lemonade squeezed fresh
No refrigerator touching my shit
Private island, waiter chef-made
Brother riding jet
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