Lyrics:
and walk
Except one or two who never drink booze
And the band in Handy Park singing""Beale Street Blues!""
You'll see hand me downs and beautiful gowns
at yall
Getting my money
Da benjis called
Blue blue pink and green
Super fly
Mr clean
She wanna fuck so I passed her my team
She kinda hit imma keep it
are you
I'm Mr. Moneybags, how do you do
I'm bout my paper, boy, pass out the news
Ooh, yuh, hop in the coupe
Ay, blue faces filling my pockets, now all
blue
In the night
When I need you
To hold me tight
Whenever I want you
All I have to do
Is Dream... Dream Dream Dream
Of trees
Swayin' in
not for me
I don't mind the sky of blue
Or the honey clouds that wander by
When that orange thing comes through
I must look away or think I'll die
out
The whole country by Khaled to rap on BET
Guess he saw me as the best man
619 to 858 to 760 I'm reppin'
San Diego to all you foreign
Daygo's what we
beat you black and blue
Demolish you
Have you lookin' just like the bottom of my shoe
The game, the game feeds off us (feeds off us)
The industry
I do, what I do
Now I'm getting jacked by the boys in blue
What I do, what I do, what I do
Excuse me, Mr. Officer, fuck you
Rolling four deep
Trying
I'll be Mr Money bags someday
Maybe on a Monday
I hope that day is sunny
Surrounded by some honeys
All dipped in honey
A fun day for them and me
I'd like
working, verses made by choice
I'm choosin' you, my younger bus rider
Tough and dying from the heat, leaking on the street
I know you're dirty on Kirby, but
don't last long
Time flies by I can tell when I enjoy it
And when I'm feeling blue Shit feels like a millennial
Get yo lazy ass up mothafucka!
There is so
client base
Jet Blue from
The irie place
Propels you
Through the Lion's Gate
Spit Through
Through The Lion's Gate
Send you
Through the fire escape
Run back
insane
By the looks of those eyes, you'll forever be a shame
Let me call him Mr. Killer it's the end you're all doomed
Gonna come and getcha they got
changing yo name
No but for real boo. Call me baKC, I need to know wassup
Yeah
Ah...ah...ah...ah
I'm HoLLyRod
I'm Mr. Playboy tho
You know I love ya boo
But
Constable Manning
Yeah, yeah he's Mr Clean curse of London's criminal scene
Yeah, yeah he's Mr Clean curse of London's criminal scene
Constable
cards foreal
Think about it play it smart foreal
They know I’m hardest still
I’m Mr Zilla wit the Rodd foreal
And fuck what you thought foreal
I be
a spleen witta gangsta lean
[Verse 1: Brotha Lynch Hung]
It was a dark blue night, nigga toe down sleep
Had a 40 ounce of E and half ounce of weed
Just got
Aye
October 2021
When I wrote this shit
I can't even remember what the fuck Itwas about
Brazzy on the track
Lil boy commin for me
Claiming he wit my
Fuck a plug, I’m a grower, dnt fuck wit no cobras
Shit is getting scary, ain’t even October
Niggas jimmy carey, no mask you a joker
Keep a straight
on
And I kept faith
Cause I remembered on that day
You had me right from the start
Baby you stole my heart
With those baby blue eyes
You took me by
understand
What I am
Mr. Record Collector man
Here I am
Don't you understand
What I am
Now I'll admit my hair looks funny
Don't be fooled by my rock & roll
Thank you, Mr. cowboy boots
For making a fool of me
Now I know not to trust
Every sweet talking boy
In a pair of tight blue jeans
And thank
Thank you, Mr. cowboy boots
For making a fool of me
Now I know not to trust
Every sweet talking boy
In a pair of tight blue jeans
And thank
Beck here the leaves are turning
On me just like you
Change is full of color
And it's anything but blue
I thought that I'd stop living
Without
Discuss these mr blues menu by blue october Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In