Search results for 'give the little man a hand by johnny clarke' Page #183

Riding around just catching slams
Get pulled over she don’t talk to the man
My little shorty she a rough rider
Know the business but don’t talk about it

gives off has become a little worn I sigh

When I think about the many implications of this journey yet traveled

It's a sticky situation my resolve is

Always dreamed of flying so i stare at kites
Man this struggle got me scared at night
These parasites will dare to fight
Any ounce of positivity that

screen like you aint see me, give it up
Live it up man, as if you still know how
Now put them hands in the air and put your fucking phone down

Put your

Golden Mic

Aceyalone

Cater to the DJ

1999

Yeeees, man
But I'm not a yes-man
Who am I?

I'm that nigga with the golden mic, I hold it tight
When it's open mic it's like it's broken mic
Smokin

to say me a prayer
Every night I send my Grandmom hearts and praying hands
In the streets turned to a man I had to fight with my hands
I gave my heart away

You see when I get nervous yeah
I get this little twitch where my hand is
And then my twitching it
Turns into deep breaths
And all my deep breaths
They

my hand cause I still got an ace
A trick up my sleeve and i poke in her face
I swear that she must been a scholar
Still give me head but I can't solve

pushed down
I'm ready to lend a hand just smoke with me some kush and brown, man
I see you like to suffer I guess there's beauty in sorrow
But for every

Yeah
New York ain't dead
It came back to life in the apocalypse
I done seen too much by fourteen to be an optimist
'Round late registration

by the camp fire
I been in the sun check the tan line
Sticking niggas up got their hands high
Twisting up their tongue got their hands tied
Threatening

Kid, turn on the TV
I’m 'bout to hit u with a flashback
Someone come and give old Mr Krabs his
Hard earned Money Cash back
I didn't get it when I was

a song by a foreigner
A man who learned the slang before he ever crossed the border
He learned all he knew from off a four track recorder
"Don't mourn

fall and land into the hands of a woman or man, now along they
Know the reason why the caged bird sings, every song's for somebody to cling

Who want

spinning
The hater's kept me driven and
The fans kept me swinging
And the hand kept me spitting - rhythm
Fossick through the garbage cans
Your lies

that big bit the bubble in
I don't really know about you but I'm on thuggy things
I'll be getting in hands dirty on mucky things
Little puppies round

making, all the writing are beside de ser
I believe in God I'll teach you by him, make you gentle
Be my fissile egg, bromo! How decides de ser
And give them

I know who I am
Since the Virgin Mary had a little lamb
He's the Son of God and the Son of man
Had to walk on water cause I never swam
Keep my eye

would suggest
In power should be the one they elect
Erected a statue of the great man
That raped our mothers, stole our lands
That’s how little

you wanna pull back on the hands of time?
Tired of the side-lines
Give me rain, got the window pane in sight
Always stuck in our ways
Different day but it's

you bout it
Ain't clap for no mans, wouldn't give hand outs for our talent
Don't even ask if it's crowded, our packs get the loudest
Mental ism gets you

with Mr. Romance
Kiss and hold hands my every day is a chance
The man in the mirror is urging me to think a little clearer
A much bigger script than

think I don't think of you now and then 

Ok look Ask you to join me on my conquest 
Take my hand I need to make me a promise 
If I give you my heart

these fans
Wishing you were by my side
But now I know
It was never in his plans
Had me geeked over your vibe
Had me feeling like the man
I can't say that