Lyrics:
my things
What love it brings
Come here, my things
Don't fear my little things
Sick things in cartridge tapes my stars
Sick things, play things,
eat my things
What love it brings
Come here, my things
Don't fear my little things
Sick things in cartridge tapes my stars
Sick things, play
worship me
You things are thrilled with fright
For I am out tonight
You things are paradise, you whet my appetite
Sick things in cartridge tapes my stars
gift to waitresses he never gives 'em a tip
Well I know what he's gonna do now he's gonna take out
The tape cartridge of Back Owens and play it again
I
Take out that tape cartridge of Buck Owens and play it again
I don't know why he don't get a Merle Haggard tape
Let's be real
Back when I got this
The condition wasn't all that fucking solid
I knew that fateful day would come
The magnetic tape is hanging out
Because the medium is so inherently flawed
Tape breaks
Or melt or warp
Cartridges can also melt
Or break
And the jewel cases shatter
Under the slightest
till the cops rush Fuck 12 can't stop us
I load the 45th with the cartridge Yellow tape on the scene that's a caution
And you got your whip from
action
See him make his car flip, empty out the cartridge
Yellow tape is caution, now he in the coffin
I hate when a nigga claim what I claim and he
Strike this match
And let loose the oven's breath
Up the volume that
Flirts with the UHF
Swipe the magnet on the audio tape
These arsons
of war, exercise
'Mega got word back from Noreaga
The D.A. got video cassette tape of
The god with the God-U-Now, pullin' a caper
Runnin' up in
you partners with
Spit, cartridges at so-called hard ni-ggaz
You get, sparked and hit, held as hostages
You know how the mobsters is from
Kwanzaa
Should I pursue further?
I'm like Tutankhamen with the
Tools in my garment
Put a few in my cartridge
The moon and stars lit
Light up the hood it
Walkman on my hip, tunes bumpin' from the tape
Backyard hoops, where we learned that sweet escape
Super Soaker battles, drippin' through the yard
Walkman on my hip, tunes bumpin' from the tape,
Backyard hoops, where we learned that sweet escape
Super Soaker battles, drippin' through the yard,
Walkman on my hip, tunes bumpin' from the tape,
Backyard hoops, where we learned that sweet escape
Super Soaker battles, drippin' through the yard,
Walkman on my hip, tunes bumpin' from the tape
Backyard hoops, where we learned that sweet escape
Super Soaker battles, drippin' through the yard
leave you motherfuckers critical (critical)
We heard the slick shit you said on fuckin' Too Short tape
But you only stomp your way into an early wake,
leave you motherfuckers critical (critical)
We heard the slick shit you said on fuckin' Too Short tape
But you only stomp your way into an early wake,
Remember the tape decks (the tape decks)
And Vhs
Remember the good times (the good times)
We were blessed
I miss the old days (the old days)
Which
to black, the scenery gets intense and darkish
'Chine come through, gun shoot extended cartridge (brrt)
Used to sleep on the sofa in a friend's apartment
your heart hit with the ray gun
No serial number know the handle got some tape on
The sun is out...
No serial number the handle got some tape on
No
age as the modern day digital
I grew up with a cord phone and a VCR
Used to blow the damn cartridge when the game wouldn't start
And my mama got me
This is a normal year for everyone of you
My life begin today and I don't know what's wainting for me
Musics are on a tape, movies on V.H.S
Forget
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