Lyrics:
You're the Colosseum,
You're the top! You're the Louvre Museum,
You're a melody from a symphony by Strauss,
You're a Bendel bonnet, a Shakespeart
we in a party, we in a party)
We in a party, I'm amused by how you move yo' body (Move yo body)
Baby girl she more poppin' in the 12 gauge Shawty
She
came way too far, I can't fuck it up
I got niggas that die by the gang, gang (gang)
Stupid, be honest, you fuck with us (hey)
Hearin' no one can
a year to two years actually. By the
time you lot are listening to this, which is February, I mean as we know Can I Play With Madness was
released the 2nd
looks
You ain't no villain, you Dillon Brooks (ha)
Let me guess, you on your grizzly, tryna diss me
I'm looking at him like Bron, "Dawg, who is he?"
don't remember their names (don't ask)
Cause I'm cumming and then I'm running
I feel like I'm Jesse James
If you're looking for the best song look no
that band too
You talk a lot of shit
But where's the fuckin' proof
All the things that's going
Through my never mind bother me
Told me I'm a prodigy
In the ballroom of romance, there's a rock band playing
People swaying to the beat, swaying in the heat
In the corner over there by the door is
jaon mein jab ye raastay saare band hain
I'm at home all alone on a Sunday (Raaste saare band hain)
Alone on a Sunday
Who knew it was lonely in paradise
jaon mein jab ye raastay saare band hain
I'm at home all alone on a Sunday (Raaste saare band hain)
Alone on a Sunday
Who knew it was lonely in paradise
the band, steadied my hand and learned a trade
And I'm coming back this time to stay
And you won't recognize the boy
Who graduated lonely school
'Cause
, Hundred Bands
Hundred bands in a Bando
Run it up, Run it up, Run it up
I go to war with a hundred of 'em
Everything I got by Faith
So I ain't gotta focus
I like to play it cool like I'm not that
On the low who'd assume that I got that
I don't know but the dude with the tall frap
Looking all aloof,
yodelay, why would I care
That your little band's playing bars and no one's there
And you ain't a big man by any means
The only thing that's big on you
a churro, she call me papi chulo
Yeah, I'm single baby girl but how 'bout you though?
Tryna make you my number one
Tryna make you my numero uno
Sweet,
standards inclining like I'm supposed to
When you stunt and you sprain nigga who you call to
Hoes all up in my business tryna know the work schedule
Dont be
When I'm dead, I'll rest, I'll rest
When I'm dead, I'll rest, I'll rest
Admit it, you lecherous douche!
You were listening to my band in 2004
Vaughn Monroe and his orchestra
Unnamed female vocalist. most likely
Marilyn duke who was still vocalist with the band
When this song was
off hard white
And I only come out at night
If I'm funkin' with them niggas and
I see 'em it's on sight
Syrup up in my Sprite
You mad 'cause my money
I’m sick of taking all these classes
Who cares, I don’t know if I passed it
Don’t wanna wake up and have a real job
Just want to jam all night long
back together
Cuz I'm so tired of playing alone
I'm available whenever
Just make sure you call me when you get home
Who needs a diary when you are
quit the band
This rock and roll is under too much control
By the rules of a man
So bye bye New York, Chicago, L.A
Austin, Philadelphia PA
I'll visit you
[Chorus]
Mr. Recordman, do you know who I am?
Mr. Recordman, do you really think I can?
I've takin' a likin' to your game
I think we all, we
Lyrics by Morley
Additional response (lyrics) by Shara Nova
How lonely in your envy
How lonely you must be
Jealous of freedom
Jealous of black joy
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