Lyrics:
to remember
Those eloquent songs from the good old days
That set us to marching with banners ablaze
But reporters, there's no sense in prying
Our blue-eyed
She sang songs, she entertained
And waved her alma mater goodbye
And had reporters take some pictures on her walking out of Central High
yours
Tell me that I'm yours
Show me that smile my heart adores
Mine, more than divine
To know that love like yours is mine
REPORTERS
The point they're
office, the King on the throne
I spent my first three hours on the telephone
You know with newsmen reporters, and votes too
I had so many calls, I didn't
family out the country
So you can't see where I stay
So go and grab the reporters
So I can smash their recorders
See they'll confuse us with some
middle name
That's the price ya pay for big fame
The cellular phone rings
Dot wanta pick it up
But it's my J-O-be I gotta kick it up
Another damn reporter
She sang songs, she entertained
And waved her alma mater goodbye
And had reporters take some pictures on her walking out of Central High
Die Kameras sind schon lange hier
Reporter stehen Spalier
Heute ist es anders, heute nicht wie sonst
Heute mach’ ich es endlich
Hen Schnappschuss in
With the Furies breathing down your neck
Team by team, reporters baffled, trumped, tethered, cropped
Look at that low plane, fine, then
Uh oh,
King
To 24 to, Law & Order
The Weather Channel's boring like 60 Minutes
Ancient reporters, next up on E True Hollywood Story
The rise and decline
office, the King on the throne
I spent my first three hours on the telephone
You know with newsmen reporters, and votes too
I had so many calls, I didn't
pair?"
Said the judge to the court reporter
Salvador
Afraid to leave the projects
To cross into another neighborhood
The newspapers and the TV crews
She's a young teacher he's a reporter
It's hate at first sight
It won't sell these days they want glamour
Fabulous heiress meets handsome
Hollywood heel
With the Furies breathing down your neck
Team by team, reporters baffled, trumped, tethered, cropped
Look at that low plane, fine, then
Uh oh,
office, the King on the throne
I spent my first three hours on the telephone
You know with newsmen reporters, and votes too
I had so many calls, I didn't
Punk reporter tried to diss me
(Ugh) Now the muthafucka's history
(Ha) I got to make a break hardcore fat tape
Word, I don't fantasize, I don't
empty out and then bike to fight you
In front of every reporter that I don't like
No need for metaphors to get points across when I write
This
that
Huh!
News reporters, invade my borders
If I think it I will say it, you might have a recorder
And then, uh oh, the nation's in upheaval
Old dating
is what Run DMC be about y'all
Will my name is DMC,
The all-time great
I buts the most rhymes in New York state
Reporters claw
Producers die
They want
I'ma shove a gun in their ribs
And reporters blow it out of proportion
"Oh, now he's pullin' guns on his fans, just for tryna stand on his porch"
reporter to go pick up ten thousand from Dez
And go take about like twenty G's from Gino (Notorious)
Tell that motherfucker get this nigga next door up out
news, fuck a reporter
Niggas ain't even safe, they wanna deport us
A ride to keep us boxed in on the street corners
If you gon' stop and frisk a nigga,
Life is too short but now it's kind of funky
I make the beats for me and my homies
Newspaper reporters and others always ask me
Why I'm X-rated
of water, yet an official reporter
Up here, life is a bitch I blow a kiss at her daughter
In a city where niggas will leave you shit outta order
So yeah, you
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