Lyrics:
change a thing by doing that
Rant rave pull out your hair
Turn on the tears, I still won't care
You don't move me an inch when you do that
I'm trying my
Say that you got it all
Love the way you players ball
Claimin that your mail is tall
Tell me is it true or false
Verse One: E-40, Too $hort
that your mail is tall
Tell me is it true or false
We throw parties on big-ass boats, niggaz wrap they paper
Ultrafied all-inclusive trips, Montego
stranded out at sea.
Now as the light begins to fade the sun disappears
I see a siren singing in a sea of tears
I know it's you, I can tell by your hair.
[Chorus]
Wish this old John Deere had wings
And this cotton row was an airstrip
Straight outta here.
Wish this high noon Georgia sun
Could melt what's been
Yeah, classic hip hop shit
Dr. D-R-E
Rozay and Jay, let's get 'em
We started out moppin' floors
And now we front row at the awards
Number one
said, "Lord, I know I don't look like much, but I didn't think you'd mind
I just wanted to be with your people, Lord, it's been a long time"
A while
And I'd like to dedicate this to John and June, who helped show me how to beat the devil.
It was winter time in Nashville, down on music city row
this night
Think I need you by my side
I need the love doctor
Right now
I need to survive this night
I no go make it o this night
Think I need
wet, row row the boat
The tides are wild, they're never low
That rubbing underneath my clothes
He worships me from head to toe
Sink my claws in like
Got to leave this song behind as it passes by
Tide comes in
This boat will surely row away
It can't leave if we stay
Little boy blue
Tootin' on your
to you
Before December
Just remember
I won't forget you at all
I'm taking a boat (to your shore)
Don't ask me to row (anymore)
Now we'll live together
Now
These and other questions stand in a row
And I'm not satisfied with the answers I know
What are you going to say to those eyes
I can't even get close
Funny to see a ghetto nigga so classy
Enchanted by women who speak nasty
Tip toeing to court, went there for the past week
Leaning on my lawyer
Train rollin' by about a quarter after five
With the whistle blowin'
Creakin' on the porch-swing swingin'
Sunday morning church bells ringin'
John
normally, but strange ringed like that in black.
It doesn't get much better, your voice can get just ripped up shouting in vain,
Maybe someone hears what
Said you got a pint, bitch, we'll match that shit
Row, row your boat on a block, patchin' shit
Said she wanna smoke dope, told that bitch, "I got that
Well I grew up on this here orange grove
For the better part of my life
I've known the sheriff since we were kids And he still drops by to this day
between four by fours
Rack 'em up, I'll bust your head
Stay playing the role of executioner, been years on death row
Now he don't wanna die for arranging
(no)
My bro wanna go, got a pass, got smoke for the low, yeah the gas (gas)
Your hoe wanna choke gotta gag, row row your boat, gotta splash (splat)
Send
breath
Meconium; 1st fart
Alcohol kills
Imprints; handstands
Weed's still a sin
Big Pharma over Psilocybin
Float your boat; Lonely Island
Mac; Garageband
die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
Music by Don Macrae, Poem by John McCrae
row row, your boat down the empty stream
Where it seems you can find or lose dreams
Blowin’ steam, blowin’ blue dream
Laid back, nah mean?
Wait, no you
Homie the clown no bozo
Froze let me pose for your photo
Nicc Benn name brand like a logo Bogo bounce back no pogo
Black jeans red hat and a polo
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