Lyrics:
closer, Come on
Do you all over your sofa, Come on
I can tell by the way you act so hard you like my type of n*****
Better bang in the back of the jeep
Every once in a while like a sonic messiah
To find out these cats
Got this thing runnin wild
God bless the child
[verse 2]
I'm spittin in the wind
Till
The Painted Desert can wait till summer.
We've played this game of just imagine long enough.
Wait till summer?
When I'm sure the rains have
Lord, I'm going down to Rosedale,
Rider by my side.
Well, we can still barrelhouse, babe,
On the riverside.
You can squeeze my lemon till
Juice run
Come on
Do you all over your sofa, Come on
I can tell by the way you act so hard you like my type of nigga
Better bang in the back of the jeep
by storm
And I'm just gettin' warm
Just like Muhammed Ali
They called him Cassius
Watch me bash this beat like a skull
That you know I've
closer, Come on
Do you all over your sofa, Come on
I can tell by the way you act so hard you like my type of nigga
Better bang in the back of the jeep
By now I think it's real, I'm the best one
Yes son, I take it to the old school
I spit super rhymes 'cause I am so cool
A duel? You must be fool
Ya know, honey, I didn't receive all of your letters
Till way after the truce was signed
But now that I've read them all over
I hope, dear, that you
clit, clit, clit
vibrator, dronator, im the detonator
gimme a lap dance and i'll rate ya
outta two i'll give you one ha ha
now come let me splash out
the southern star shines
Everybody wanna get signed, but (here to tell you)
Record companies act like pimps
Gettin' paid off what we made when we the ones
sugar
Sugar sugar sugar sugar sugar
Ah, it ain't over child
Your racing car
Raised by the boldness
You know you are
Your lips like cherries
whatever, that's no lie
Gotta make it to gettin' bigger makin' me wanna slide
Up under my apple tree, better yet you on top of me
Switch it over let me
you all over your sofa, Come on
I can tell by the way you act so hard you like my type of nigga
Better bang in the back of the jeep and put
really about it you don't say shit
Pocket full of aces
Take over my city yeah that's really home invasions
All my homies with me gettin' busy no
still gettin' over you
It's a little too little
It's a little too late
I'm a little too hurt
And there's nothin' left that I've gotta say
You can
When she calls me up on the telephone
Say, come on over honey, I'm all alone
I said, baby you're mighty sweet
But I'm in bed with the achin' feet
When you go through other albums, you're sure to say
"Goddamn, they all seem to sound alike!"
Till you hear the crew standin' over in the light
gettin' on time to close
Richard, you haven't really changed, I said
It's just that now you're romanticizing some pain that's in your head
You got tombs
My pinky ring a v8, I filled it with carrots
I'm Popeye with spinach, till' the day I die I'm gettin' high
High, high, high, high, high, high
of luck
Stuck up by the motherfuckin' product
"Uh-uh motherfucker you gots to get a job
If you want to stay in my motherfuckin' house"
"Many
41st till I dearly depart,
till then I'll be somewhere gettin bent up in a den
Sippin gin, while you shook cats just pretend to be something
That your
answer is said, the nigga fled
I pump lead, now he's in a puddle of red
And if you got a buck, you're shit out of luck
Stuck up by the motherfuckin'
Before it's over
I need you to come over once again
And before you give me closure
Need you to come a little bit closer
Still steppin' like Omega Psi
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