Lyrics:
flip my middle finger I'm chilling on 20 million
The rumors turn me on I'm masturbating at the top
These hoes so excited they catching every drop
I'm
Thrown off the bridge
To the river by the ridge
Was the iron mountain baby
A man walking by
Said he heard a little cry
And he found him in
lookin' over, at me
She wanna turn up
I can tell by the look in her face
That she ain't happy with you, n****
And I can bet that I'm gon' get her
And I
by its cover
Though you appear as materialistic, just like the others
So I followed your words to take 'em in
And I don't see what you saying so
as he goes by
An stick ya finger in your eye
Hit everything except that fly
Buzz buzz buzz
floors that loaf
I be floor seats by that coach
I be fight seats by that rope
Make me so sick I could vomit
Gin with no tonic
Cheat on my bitch, she know
all furrowed,
And wrinkled with care.
I kiss the dear fingers,
So toil-worn for me,
Oh, God bless you and keep you,
Mother Machree.
Ev'ry sorrow
fingers
Throw stones
Judge me
Hate me
Love me
Hug me
Curse me
Whatever
'Cause y'all fuckin' opinions don't feed me
I'm clever
And nothin' know
she spilt a drink on my cream wallows
Reach the gate, hungry just ate
Riffin, she got to be to work by eight
This must mean she ain't tryin
'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse
The stockings were hung by the chimney with
as he goes by
An stick ya finger in your eye
Hit everything except that fly
Buzz buzz buzz
You know sex 'em up a little bit
You know what I mean?
You're the honey that I see when I'm riding by
The one giving me a feeling that I can't deny
Fingers in your mouth, open up your blouse
Pull your G-string down South, aoowww
Threw that back out, in the parking lot
By a Cherokee and a green drop-top
It was the night before Christmas
When all through the house
Not a creature was stirring
Not even a mouse
The stockings all hung
By the chimney with
all furrowed,
And wrinkled with care.
I kiss the dear fingers,
So toil-worn for me,
Oh, God bless you and keep you,
Mother Machree.
Ev'ry sorrow
around
But on certain nights if the moon was right
He'd dig it up out of the ground.
He'd pour it all out on the floor of his shack
And run his fingers
Recorded by hank williams, sr.
Words and music by jenkins
[g] a prodigal son once [c] strayed from his [g] father
To travel a land of [a] hunger
We'll live off the street fame!
God didn't send me in the right direction
I'm gettin' hit by a diesel in the intersection
I know you're out there help
William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane that he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gathering
And I got birds flyin' south, boy
Yeah, I'm too "Brrr" to be a Hot Boy
I got them birds by the flock, boy
Yeah, I'm too cold to be a Hot Boy
I'm too
Hit my head
on the edge of space,
and it really hurt a lot
Stopped a river's source
with my finger,
and it became a road
Sympathize with amimals
mother's booming heart.
Tiny yolk body, tethered like an astronaut,
Adrift in the tranquil spume of desolate bliss.
Tiny fingers inching from chubby
tonight
Come home with me, little Matty Groves, and sleep with me till light"
"Oh, I can't come home, I won't come home and sleep with you tonight
By
Your admirers on the street
Got to hoot and stamp their feet
In the heat from your physique
As you twinkle by mocassin sneakers
And I thought my
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