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Search results for 'house of four doors pt 1 by the moody blues'

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And a pile of laundry by the hotel door.
Don't it ever get lonesome?
Don't it ever make a young man blue?
Don't it ever get lonesome?
Don't it ever make
three four

(spoken)
Gather round friends, why hurry
Let's all stay a little longer

(sing)
Ya oughta see my blue eyed Sally
She live way down
this blue house a home
How peaceful it is to watch them soar
Through the palm-tree ballroom with its gold-paneled doors
And as I sit by the fire
children play...
We're not gonna sale our happy little house at 4-0-33
Wouldn't take a pretty thing for the love we had at 4-0-33

I DON'T LOVE YOU ANYMORE
She was not the girl next door
But the girl from 'round the corner
It was at the tail end of grade four
When she came to school one morning
through the back door entrance
Shocked it was unlocked, when I walked in, I smelled incense
Chased by a weed aroma, empty Guinnesses
And lipstick marks
hair
I walked in through the back door entrance
Shocked it was unlocked, when I walked in, I smelled incense

Chased by a weed aroma, empty
Only On The Westside Fool
Surrounded By Section 8 Houses And The Projects
A Place Where You Make The Wrong Turn, You're Gettin Robbed At
We All
[Chorus: x 4]
Cause if you fuck with us we leave scars


Tic-toc around the clock, for the rock ya come see me
Just knock at the door I'll grant
at the slamming of the door
Left for Waukegan at the slamming of the door

I said John, John, he's long gone
Gone to Indiana, ain't never coming home
I said John,
at the slamming of the door
Left for Waukegan at the slamming of the door

I said John, John, he's long gone
Gone to Indiana, ain't never coming home
I said
packed it's a mad house
Catch you slippin' by yourself and get you assed out
And homie that's word, my niggas gon' lurk
See that red and blue I
Only On The Westside Fool
Surrounded By Section 8 Houses And The Projects
A Place Where You Make The Wrong Turn, You're Gettin Robbed At
We All
a dormant cell of valor as awoken by the smell of sordid power
And defecting shortly after
Fist bump dry land, brackish, cat nap 15
Back to swiss-cheese
the doe
Checked in my room then whooped out the scale and the blow
There's a knock at the door, I grabbed the four-four
It was the homeboy who set me up
a motherfuckin' thunder storm

Peoples being killed by the fuckin' tornado
But I didn't run, I'm sittin there loot is at my table

Houses bein' swept up!
Churches
your nine
Boy I call that kick door
I stick those
Bitches in my trunk
And now we back to my hood
Don't want the left they die yet
But he wishin' he would
tried to tell you

[Chorus]

[Nelly]
Now baby girl what's your name?
And tell me what's your claim to fame
Oh I can tell you do your thing
Just by
the back door opened, shit
I hear it close and my belt unlock
Turn around and there was four mafuckers with glocks
Pointed straight to my dome piece, grabbed
"Live from New York it's Saturday Nite!" (Scratched 4x)

[Uneek]
Ayo kid for years I've been into rap
Writing funky rhymes to get my name
like my riches

A yo, I'm Murphey Lee the school boy
The civilized jewel boy
I got not one, two, three, four, five, but six whores
For equality, Vokal,
A 9-8 jag with the least 4 doors
Another finery that drills off shore
Can my ride look better than yours
Can I have a bad bitch who knows how to whore
Hit
'cause they riches ain't like my riches

A yo, I'm Murphey Lee the school boy
The civilized jewel boy
I got not one, two, three, four, five, but six
Pulled the rat in back of the van, bitch we don't want you 
 we want your man, you understand? 
 The hoe said, "Please, I got his house keys, the nigga
the door clocker 

I keep it rough with that red or blue shit 

Hoo Bang crew shit  Recipe new shit 

It's off the hinges  and my friends is 

Rollin