Lyrics:
rug to plug me
He shook my hand and hugged me; thought he would do me ugly
but he dug me, pockets chubby said, "Nino where them drugs be?"
Over there by
waves
Tap down those boots while I beat around
Funk me downtown
I lay around
Touch myself to pass the time tcuch myself
I feel down, I wish you were mine
him freeze us
Breaking bread like I'm Jesus
Money ain't everything, but somehow eases
Better believe and think down and leave us, the baby cryin'
Crack,
Frank zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
Mark volman (vocals)
Howard kaylan (vocals)
Jim pons (bass, vocals)
Don preston (keyboards, electronics)
Ian
on the hill
I can hear a tape deck blastin' "Home on the Range"
I can see them Bar-M choppers
Sweepin' low across the plains
It's me and you Frank we're
Yes, 32 the album out right now
Love for the love fire in the Booth
Wrote this in the country
I was staring at horses
It's kinda nice to be still
and your chaperon (Notorious)
Things done changed, but we continue to reign
As the King and the Queen of hip-hop, me and B.I.
Frank White still the center
You know that time in your life
That single moment that defines exactly who you are
Well that only stings for a second
Go!
I ain't no Frank Sinatra
move the stick shift and whip
It like the cameras on
Me and my mans bout to take over America
But y’all don’t understand me tho
Frank sinatra, he woke me
renegade, must stay paid
Not by financial aid, but a raid of hits
Causing me to take long trips
I'm the original teacher of this type of style
Rockin'
paid
Not by financial aid, but a raid of hits
Causing me to take long trips
I'm the original teacher of this type of style
Rockin' off-beat with
Rebel, renegade, must stay paid
Not by financial aid, but a raid of hits
Causing me to take long trips
I'm the original teacher of this type of style
candelabras
I done crashed the opera
cowabunga, doin “Somethin Stupid” like Frank Sinatra
The spotlight, gonna act like, a battery pack when I rippity-rap
to Be
Jr.Sinatra Far From Here Far From Here
She said come with me and you will See
That your life isn't bad as you say
She said come with me and you will
Your beauty so fine, yeah, your skin be so soft, yeah, I just wanna touch you, yeah, I wanna go down there
These boys be hating on me, I don't give
Countin up
By Frank Whyte & Killa Beatz
Hook1
Frank Whyte :
Started off fifty thousand
Came up hundred thousand
Too much I can't count it
Go
my spew bag
From the new trap to the boom bap
I consume that shit, that's it
You don't wanna mute that
Found my spot around the top, so down me not
I
Now they wanna hear a country nigga rap
Five albums in, I swear a country nigga snap
Thought they wanted trap, thought they wanted bass
Thought
Now they wanna hear a country nigga rap
Five albums in, I swear a country nigga snap
Thought they wanted trap, thought they wanted bass
Thought
Pac
And Frank Sinatra while we rollin' up with Peter Tosh
And Marley, Chris Farley and Basquiat
'Til I dip with Marilyn Monroe givin' me top
Shit
Liffeyside
(For the late Vinnie Caprani, a Dub by heart — c song written for
The Frank Harte Festival 2020, having listened to a recording of
Vinnie
thinking about my wishes
Breaking down niggas like casserole dishes
Riches, that's what I live for
Attracting all the bitches, the fuck em till my dick sore
the angles
Offer value exchanges and then
They never pay you so this year
I had to get some people off the back of me
Can’t hold it down for everyone
Hoe I
I'm engagin' in ways of stoppin' ya
Death sentence like when Lefty
Betrayed the Mafia it's too many rats in
Your pack, Frank Sinatra, huh
Niggas should
.jpg/228px-Frank_Sinatra_(1957_studio_portrait_close-up).jpg "Frank Sinatra")
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