Lyrics:
bounce the ball fuck the law
Feeding my son is a must
Whip it soft, whip it hard in crack we trust
Why Andrew Jackson look high as fuck on the 20 G?
surrounded by the 4, I'm that number 5
Face shots through a drive-thru, he got hit, ah
Face shots through a drive-thru, he got a number 5
15-piece dark meat
to go back in time and learn a bit of history,
It started way back in two thousand and eleven,
With nothing more than a blog post by Joe Devon,
He was
feeling the mural Plural
No gods no masters
The cons no factor enlightened is neural new chapter
Book of life got crucial Superficial seduced by negatives
I think that first intro was the one-, was the one
Water
Wet, wet
(Oh my God, Ronny) one, two, three
Yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh
Yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh
Artist: Scarface
Typed by: jostmatt@bluewin.ch
These niggas is fuckin with a dangerous game
Hey Joe, what's up baby?
Yeah, I like the beat
a cellular
Three one three man them nuh regular
Change de scene like photoshop editor
Everybody know the general no meddler
Cause me was raised by a queen name
and meet the (Who?),
Come and meet the squad, meet the squad.
(Verse)
Rollin’ up to shows we mobbin’ twenty three deep.
Got UFO Joe smokin’ loads
cookin' but ain't no oven, they say they hate me, I love 'em
Come now boys, sound the alarm, we brothers in arms, fuck that beef shit
Y'all riding
the age of six I knew the name would ring a bell
In six more years to wonder what the time could tell
That's 666 still no signs of a three-sixty deal
Yeah what you need?
Yeah let me get a large order of fries and uh
No fries
Excuse me?
No fries man
Oh, well must be out then
Alright then give me
Vandross' 1994 interpretation of The Impossible Dream The Quest written by Joe Darion in 1966
The lyric phrase "proud" is a nod to the motivational call by
right now, pick up a pound
Enjoy and lounge with style, y'all know my name by now
[ chorus ]
[ outro: fat joe ]
No doubt
Cuban link, baby
'99
Terror
Henry Harrison and Grant, no more, they grew
Next, Rutherford B. Hayes measured five feet eight and one half
Fillmore and Truman were five-nine, 'bout
We gonna drop this next bomb for a money makin' playa that ain't with us no mo
Yeah, Notorious B.I.G.
Hell no, we gonna do this for a gangbanging
hit no slope
Damn and we really staying tight like I fuck with ropes
Too much in my freaking mental drugs is what I use to cope
One.. two.. three.. four
play some Jackson 5
Rum inside the eggnog
On my wishlist
I want a banana porche
3 hoes like I’m Santa Claus
Kiss under the missletoe
Merry Christmas
than Joe Jackson
Toe Tagging every time I seem to catch a rhythm
How you living?
Fallen angel might've lost a halo
But he kept his wings
So I'm soaring
ain't have to do one bench press
With no biceps, got two bitches having bi sex
On three perks and still ain't high yet
Mixing pills like jambalaya
I'm
the greatest husband that a girl had ever found
That's what I reasoned
That's what I reasoned
Then April rolled around
[JOE]
Strike three, ball four, walk
We gonna drop this next bomb for a money makin' playa that ain't with us no mo
Yeah, Notorious B.I.G.
Hell no, we gonna do this for a gangbanging
And don't chill-out too hard or you'll be out of the box
Stop running your face and try to listen instead
Or you'll be known as a loud-mouth Joe Rockhead
waits for no man
On a blind date, a love with a slow chrome hand
Judged him by his shoes, hot smelly Brogan
Budged him with the news, called him
man
But if I go three thousand miles it still won't get no rest
Cause I broke out of jail, broke out of jail
Broke out of jail, broke out of jail
Discuss these nocturne no 3 by joe jackson 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