Lyrics:
It was down by old Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square
They were serving drinks as usual, and the usual crowd was there
On my left stood Big
It was down by old Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square
They were serving drinks as usual, and the usual crowd was there
On my left stood Big
It was down by old Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square
They were serving drinks as usual, and the usual crowd was there
On my left stood Big
Sunday needs a pick me up?
Here's your chance
Do you get tired of the same old square dance?
Allemande right now
All join hands
Do-si-do
poorly educated soul
He had a great big square thing made of solid stone,
And in the middle of it was a hole
One day he had to go from his cave in
By none
Too many people saying too many things
Got her square world thinking she was a beauty queen
She would always steal the scene
But she was
From the Album:
* Face it
The first time I laid my eyes on you
You happened to glance the other way
But by the look of your lazy smile
I knew I had
Tento album, celý tuto vec
By som chcel venovať ľudom
Ktorých vyjadrenia vidím, vnímam
A snažia sa vsugerovať sami sebe
Mne a všetkým okolo že už
the Wisp
And this is The Last Light Radio
Your last beacon of truth and defiance
I've always started my shows by saying that: All ships lost in
a microphone will give you three of everythin' I wear, yeah
Models by the pair, swear, bottles, private Lear, steer
Style that's outta here, rare, thousands by
a microphone will give you three of everythin' I wear, yeah
Models by the pair, swear, bottles, private Lear, steer
Style that's outta here, rare, thousands by
on William Rhodes
'Cause at the sound of the bell, my circle square controls
And all MC's best sweat, we bringin' buckets of heat
So don't fret, kid, I
Drain the veins in my head
Clean out the reds in my eyes to get by security lines
Dear x-ray machine
Pretend you don't know me so well
I
on his
old album cover he was a she thang
so Nigga please, Nigga please don't step to deez
motherfuckin' Real G's
Yo Dre, what's up? *bang*
Yo Dre, what's
use
Take me by the hand while
We do what lovers do
It matters how this ends
Cause what if I never love again?
I don't need your honesty
It's already in
you on the phone last night
We live and die by pretty lies
You know it, oh, we both know it
These silver bullet cigarettes
This burning house, there's
production's tight
Sometimes I might catch a severe case of writer's block
But by the end of the day you'll be on my jock
My name's Malik my hobby's putting
dick
Too many niggas, not enough hoes
And some of you niggas, acting like hoes
Stay to myself like loners do
Get high by myself, I'm not in the mood
The Intergalactic Laxative
Words & Music by: Donovan Leitch - 1973
Performed by: Donovan
Album: Cosmic Wheels - 1973
I was impressed like everyone,
day by day
Hopin that the Lord can, pave my way
Have I been forgotten, have I forsaken
Or maybe I'm just wrong with the moves that I've
fear and the end draws near, and the peasants wore a blindfold
Stack 'em up, stack 'em up, burn 'em down, and the peace remains unknown
Burdened by
squares of Holy Roman
Catholicism in an eye
To deeply sow, where sorrow rose
Having all tomorrows
For our wedded union to impose
The world in misery
into
Yeah I need my loot by rent day
But that ain't what gives me the heart of Kunta Kinte
I'm tryin' to give us us free like Sinke
I can't stop,
(yes)
It's like that man, it's like that (yes)
Check it
I'm not your average MC with the Joe Schmoe flow
If you don't know me by now, you'll never
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