Lyrics:
to moo
That's what you do to be a lady, now.
When I went to school I learned to write and how to read
History, geography and home economy
And typing
him holler
All you got to do is ask him for a dollar
Whether she's a nurse, secretary
Waitress or clerk
She can be a typist, teacher
Beautician or any
our hieroglyph crisis
Incite a pride as a typist and shine a light on the shyest
They're the brightest of hopefuls and are more priceless than opals
shit)
I just gotta make it
Heavy road to home ahead and no one's here
Just alone and cold and scared
But I don't even feel a thing no more
I set my
* Please send all corrections to typist
[B.G.]
I got 'em all from revolver semi-automatics, automatics
Grenades, assault rifles - run up, I'll
* Please send all corrections to typist
[B.G.]
I got 'em all from revolver semi-automatics, automatics
Grenades, assault rifles - run up, I'll
A pyramid of all-typists perform to no-man
A mask of utility in a godless void
We were life, then a tool, now a toy
Welcome to the zoo
A home for
explanation
'Cause baby, you're the boss at home
You don't gotta go to work, work, work, work, work, work, work
But you gotta put in work, work, work
explanation
'Cause baby, you're the boss at home
You don't gotta go to work, work, work, work, work, work, work
But you gotta put in work, work, work
explanation
'Cause baby, you're the boss at home
You don't gotta go to work, work, work, work, work, work, work
But you gotta put in work, work, work
to work on my sound
I gotta make it real
If I take the deal
Friends I tried to kill
Bitches cumin' with bills
And…
I make music born to it I'm a true addict
Whatcha...DJs...Whatcha...DJs...Whatcha...DJs...
Keep your fake ass home!
Whatcha...Whatcha...Whatcha...Whatcha...Whatcha...Whatcha...Whatcha...Whatcha...
Whatcha.. Roll out that bass...
Whatcha..
* first single; send corrections to the typist
[Intro]
[DJ Petey Pablo]
Lets take some calls from the request line, caller number 1
[Caller
'Cause baby, you're the boss at home
You don't gotta go to work, work, work, work, work, work, work
But you gotta put in work, work, work, work, work
I missed the bus and walked twelve miles home
And it really didn't seem far
And all through my seventeenth summer
Running together from crowds
Surgery for a kidney stone
Covid ran through my home
My faith in Christ alone
Jehovah Shalom
I done seen Him work
Work, work, work, work, work, work (Work
'Cause, baby, you're the boss at home
You don't gotta go to work
Work, work, work, work, work, work
But you gotta put in work
Work, work, work, work, work
go home
Women in factories, one parent families
Women in purdah, Persons unknown
Wild girls and criminals, rotting in prison cells
Patients in
I can't wait to get home to you
I got so much work to do, work, work
Oh, come on work me baby, come on home, oh
Come on work me baby, oh
I'm
* send corrections to the typist
They smile in ya face, but they ain't lovin you
Turn your back, they tryin to break your J-A-W
Who a nigga
Need to work from home
Need to work from home
Need to work from home
Need to work
Need to work
Need to work from home
Dog’s been sick need to work
There's work at home
There's no work in the farm
There's much trouble at home
There's no work in the farm
There's work at home
There's no work in
that carrot cake
Let it marinate, you forever late
A million home sellers couldn't find a realer state
(Work it, work it) slight work, its light work
out
No matter what I go through he will
Work it out
In my home, on my job the Lord will
Work it out be not weary in your well doing
Work it out
For in
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