Lyrics:
and the flock
I don't need green dots, that's real
Fuck my PO, duck my PO,
I used to post in the bull horn, L.A. on GO
In the A sellin' off white, GTO
A nigga
boulevards
We're fog horns in the night
Post original
Hide the criminal
But we can't hang on to time
Still we made it so much better
And a whole lot worse
to solve the mysteries
Of the unexplained vanished
Half dead grass fed....
Carne asada
Barry Sotorro
Bull Horns
Play Post Up pass
I’m on the Jazz like Greg
bail ballin'
Post bail ballin', go tell the warden I'm
Soon as I get home I'm going to get that brand new Bentley
I'ma honk the horn, riding past
Yankee power
Cock pit tom with army charm
The eagle lands army commands
Oh American soldier
America's boy
Cowboy corn & bugle horn
{on son
ticken, keine Chance
Toti auf den Kopf gibt Horn so wie Deutsche Post, ah
Alles 'ne Getränkefrage
Jeder um dich rum würd drücken, wenn ich Geld bezahle
I was at a funeral the day I realized
I wanted to spend my life with you
Sitting doen on the steps at the old post office
The flag was flying
and belts to match
To the window to the wall, to the back motherfucker, don't fall
The 'Kast gone keep on humpin' and dumpin' to post up on all of y'all
sacrifice our sins
Circle pit, wall of death, post up, here we go!
Hawks up, hair down, thrash dance, let's go!!
Devil pit, devil horns, devil queen, go
ocean in the boat that you made
Been blowin' your horn, scarin' the spooks
No crotchets or quavers in your books
Gone sailin' all night, straight in
Rag top slowin' down, time to stop for gas
Beep my horn for a hoochie with a proper ass, uh
It ain't easy, that's my motto
Drinkin' Tanqueray
I met a sacred deer
In a secret forest
I got a signal from
From his horns
I’ve changed my life and now
I am clean
Forgot all famous drugs
and I
Narrow Streets, winding curves, leading us onward
The tunnel, the horn, the echo
Past the brickyard, then the schoolyard,
Post office box: 30, there
and belts to match
To the window to the wall, to the back motherfucker, don't fall
The 'Kast gone keep on humpin' and dumpin' to post up on all of y'all
Planning permission tied to post
We read when we're waiting for bus
Is always double-checked 'cause we so often suspect
They plan to build
Hey, hey, hey.
I stare at the post card.
Half jack rabbit, half antelope.
Now I know it's called a Jackalope.
A funny little bunny with horns
I lose, that I lose
Bitch I am the man mufucka, the man mufucka
Bring the horns in like I am the band mufucka
Talking ‘bands’ mufucka, bands
down.
Send out tomorrow in a post parcel pack
Tell me you love me and don't turn back
Snuff out the light
Turn off the town
He's setting me on fire gonna
On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Six posts a-ringing
Five 45s
Four rolls of tape
Three Crunch stars
Two hockey gloves
And a dangle, a snipe
Payment post-dated
The pavement gave way to a thicket of thorns
Where the body lay naked as the day I was born
She rocked my teeth in a necklace
Gulped
a circus
made by the prayer of breathing
and living hope
and barbed eyes
where coyotes hang
and cowboys hammer
posts and branches
to keep us inside
as much
and tattooed by the sun
a circus
made by the prayer of breathing and living hope
and barbed eyes
where coyotes hang
Page 2
and cowboys hammer
posts
player a method layer so run and tell your Mayor
Nas the parlayer, you better say your prayer
I'm the New York City slayer
I play high post and then lay
player a method layer so run and tell your Mayor
Nas the parlayer, you better say your prayer
I'm the New York City slayer
I play high post and then lay
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