Lyrics:
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
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
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
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
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
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
the cartridge in and hit start
Going hardware like we're armor clad
The kind of fun where you don't tell your mom or dad
But if the shoe don't fit, better watch
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
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
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
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,
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
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
breathe on the game like a cartridge
I'm sorry, I ain't mean to restart it
Chano got the keys to the starship
With his heart on his sleeve like a card
somethin' I take it cuttin' through the red tape
Yo legs break tryin' to catch up who who led the race
It's 5-7 Highas heaven causin' insanity
Whatcha
talkin'
On tape like Teddy Ruxpin
We do heavy shufflin'
Leave you in black tuxes
Jim Jones and Cam'ron, Harlem and Compton
We like Blood cousins
On 24's,
the days in the bando grippin' on the cartridge
Young niggas survived the jungle safari (survived)
She said she ain't never seen a hunnid bands this
Zeus to a Kronos, cartilage cartridge is boneless
Smiles of cowards in lead showers
Dead spouses in red blouses
Children who fled houses on Mustang
Squeeze my brother
Let's add some sauce to the tape
Beef me how I'll bring a whole cow
You niggas don't want that
I get man down my team play foul
I'm
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
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