Search results for 'truckin back to you by the brady bunch' Page #232

Big Time

Linda Eder

It's Time

1997

to the big time
You need big time looks
A shady accountant
Who can cook the books
A couple of well-placed friends
Some dynamite eight by tens
Before you

clickety-clack
Nobody knows where that old train goes
Those who go they don't come back
They go

Way down Hadestown
Way down under the ground

Winter's

was not by accident
I took a minute, processed, i got up, and now I'm back
And then I turned a corner, made this shit pop like it's gonna blast again

has been walked by many like me
And I don't need more than my right hand's fingers 
To count the ones who died with no guilt
Now you tell me I can't

How much work does a man have to do...
To prove himself to someone like you?
You're all a bunch of penny-pinchers!
Thieving stitching petty wingers!

Windy City peak of a storm
February in a Black History form
Since Nineteen Seventy Three giving you more
Made a big impact from way back
Southside chick

hit the road and do all these shows, you with a rockstar baby you know how it go.

We getting racks stacking up, wanna take ah trip, take flight

Deeper into the mud... led by the angel.
John Doe is looking around, delighted and - frankly begins to go insane.
The computerbrain can't find such

to tell me got to
Fit in I don't see why
I was too busy trying to rep for my side
Got a bunch of white powder in
The back of my ride tell 'em

letters to be read, and heaps of papers waiting to be signed

I must have gone to lunch at half past twelve or so

The usual place, the usual bunch

didn't)
What's good, what's good, what's goodie and come on by this ain't war we bullies
War's a sport and lad you rookies (pussies) 
Ran blaze 'n ghost

letters to be read, and heaps of papers waiting to be signed
I must have gone to lunch at half past twelve or so
The usual place, the usual bunch

must have read a while
The latest one by Marilyn French or something in that style
It's funny but I had no sense of living without aim
The day before you

head to my abode
So baby what you doing? I just wanna go home
I can scoop you like whenever
Take you back home in the morn like

We, we, we, we, we could

Heavy Head

Classified

Heavy Head

2015

From the days of no Wi-Fi and high-fives
Look how time flies by you'd think I had nine lives
When I was on the come up they celebrated
Then they

(Verse 1) 
Last year really had me by the throat (and now) 
This year got a boujee ass coat  
And my chips in so you know I don’t fold (and now) 
Big

I'm tryna run up a check

Man I'm tryna get this money
You bitches hate too much
Catch me boolin' by myself
I don't hang in a bunch
Trust me she ain't

could've made a million by now
But then everybody will find out
Blud, this is nang

You've got nothing, you've got nothing
You want something so you need

just served that fiend and I'm already gettin' a call back
That's how you know I got them hitters
Man, the way they smoke it up, they may as well just

and counting
How many breaths is that?
How many times have I held you?
Maybe you held me back
I come to God with my crises
I'm in the doctor's chair
He wants my

just stuck on this dust just
floating through nuttin wid a bunch of u cunts
Uhhh
Baby I come did u come twice thrice multiple times
Wizzy done knocked

off backs
And throw them in socks
Old school hustle!
Watch your rising stock
The unsupportive…
Then start to flock
Bunch of birdbrains
Who swear they’re

on your ass
Why they send it by the ton but lock you up for the stash
And shoot a man in his back and Walk away and just laugh
Yeah
That's why ya always let

punchlines ain’t no winning by Unanimous decision
Declared king ever since I was born Y’all
Crazy how niggas you looked up to
Turned cornball
Bunch of lames