Lyrics:
Pete don't really give a...(Damn)
Been a classic since Rakim was rockin' a fade
With a half moon part & Big Daddy Kane was writing for Biz Mark
And I
stain the carpet
And by the way, have you got a dollar
Oh, no, man, I haven't got the time time
Too busy sucking on a ding-dong
She's busy sucking
na-na-na's part two)
RaIn begIns to fall overshadowed by the clouds
I mIss you by my sIde always shatterIng my doubts
How the tImes have changed I don't know
left the rag on
What I kill by, this really what I live by
Tryna get grandma a real big house (uh-huh)
Still hatin', huh? Thinkin' that's the wave,
guns too
It's not to be a racist, but let's face this
Wouldn't you if we could trade places?
I got lynched by some crooked cops and to this day
Them
Hector
Kill any beat like my first name Dexter
She say I miss You and say I Neglect her
These Niggas tiny they micro Imma takeoff like some nitro
LH fuck
ass homeboys too
Yeah
Nineteen ninety-one
Just when all these other rappers seem to be fallin' by the wayside
We put a team together and came
interrupted by a doorbell
3:52, who the hell is this?
I gets up quick, cocks my shit
Stop the dogs from barkin', then proceed to walkin'
Its a face that I
[Harlettes:] This is the story of a young girl
who was the hippest chick in town.
They call her Big Noise from Winettka.
Miss Birdie's sure to get
never really does
I'm a little lonely my baby
You're lonely too
Once I had a love that changed me
But not like you
When all our words
Miss the mark
It's
short life
Wait to long and you might miss your chance
If you walk too slow you gotta learn how to run
Yeah, Git-R-Done
There's all them times you
subtle signs
I will not miss the mark
And I’m pleased to turn you on
I’ll lead you out the dark
I’m an easy touch
The finer points
The softer deal
I’m
Frank Zappa (guitar, dialog)
Mark Volman (lead vocals, dialog)
Howard Kaylan (lead vocals, dialog)
Ian Underwood (woodwinds, keyboards, vocals)
that's my lunch
Ru-ru-run your motherfuckin' pockets when I come
It's an honor to be robbed by Denise's only son
Yeah, give a ready baby boy, beta
pictures
We came too far witchu
Go VIP with big DOG and see what gangstas do
Once we get witcha we can't take pictures
We came too far witchu
Oh, Pharrell,
somehow
A couple years away from home
I miss my dog
I'm buried too
Right next to you.
This dotted line outlines the moon
I'm looking up
Right back to you
Three Thou', poster child for big dick niggas raised by their mothers
I'm supposed to smile as if God knew that I would be troubled
Keeps me around, for
I slap it, flip it, and rub it like that
Yeah, it gotta be black
Plus yo ass too flat
I need a butt big enough that can clap
Rat-a-tat-tat
too,
Nothing more to say, no more ace to play.
The winner takes it all,
The loser standing small beside the victory, that's her destiny.
I was in
you'll stain the carpet
And by the way, have you got a dollar?
Oh, no, man, I haven't got the time-time
Too busy sucking on a ding-dong
She's busy
had potty issues and snotty tissues we been rockin
Think you poppin next year nobody will miss you
My thoughts is too advanced for the artists on these
And a lush little Miss said, "Come in, please"
'Fore we could even bat an eye
We were right in the middle of a big fish fry
It was rockin', it was rockin'
You
you'll stain the carpet
And by the way, have you got a dollar?
Oh, no, man, I haven't got the time-time
Too busy sucking on a ding-dong
She's busy
to be...
Step by step!
Mark end goals!
From the garage
To town hall
Learning music with
my guitar!
Let's enjoy it in our way,
from Bac de Roda
we'll start
.jpg/225px-Mark_Lowry_in_2018_(25864575277).jpg "Mark Lowry")
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