Lyrics:
the preachers, I'm the high priestess
Everywhere I go I get, "Hi, nice to meet you"
Bitches know I beast this, I'm the fashionista
And they know I stay around
I lived on a farm out in Iowa I pulled the corn and I worked in the hay
Got trapped by a girl but I wiggled free heard the Oregon timber callin' me
because my hunger?
Mr. America young black niggaz want ya
I want to talk to the man understand
Understand this motherfuckin G-pack in my hand
Look
stay strapped for the shit
That was brought to him
This nigga was a motherfuckin’ fool
Only 13, fuckin’ bitches in high school
Laid back, his game was
may place yourself high above us
Mr. President have pity on the working man
I know it may sound funny
But people ev'ry where are runnin' out of money
Am I high
Me oh my
Folks all seem to drift on by
Tell me true friend am I high
Am I high
Please Don't Lie
Or have my legs been rubberized
I don't give a f*** about anything
That you're telling me
'Cause right now it's all, irrelevant
I'm so high I won't, remember it
And I wish that
hands together for Mr. Rock n Roll
Save me
Love me till the day I die take me to the mountain high
Baby
Guide me through the great divide and lay me
together for Mr. Rock n Roll
Save me
Love me till the day I die take me to the mountain high
Baby
Guide me through the great divide and lay me by
How you doin' I'm Mr. Mos I'm back
Timb are you on it
Timb are you on it
Give me some
Is this what you wanted?
Is this what you wanted?
Oh
Uh, what's harder? Life or Mr. Carter?
Balling 'til my hair is as white as Johnny Carson
You don't have to beg because I'm fresh out of pardons
How you doin' I'm Mr. Mos I'm back
Timb are you on it
Timb are you on it
Give me some
Is this what you wanted?
Is this what you wanted?
Oh
'm going to die
Wear my libido
I'm gonna die
Start a new union
I'm gonna die
Who wants to stay
Your life is shit, shit
Your life is strange
Chanel)
Wanna spend it all on you, baby (Lil' Twist, Lil' Chuckee)
My room is the G-spot (and young Lloyd, ayy)
Call me Mr. Flintstone I can make your
on my own
Uh, lotta years went by with my hands tied up in your ropes
Forever and ever, no more
The midnight sky is the road I'm takin'
Head high up
beat yo' ass if you walk in this house with tears in your eyes
Runnin' from poopoo and 'prentice
Go back outside, I beat yo' ass, lil nigga
That
the straw, turkey in the hay,
Roll 'em up and twist 'em up a high tuckahaw
And twist 'em up a tune called Turkey in the Straw.
Met Mr. Catfish comin' down
Who is he, Mr. Rand McNally?
I had I dream that mystery was me. Now who else could I be?
I dreamed I went to England and met the spice girls
hitched a ride to misery
Mr. Whirly had a catastrophic incident
He fell into the city by the bay
He liquidated his estate
Now he sleeps upon the Haight
of the floor
And how you stay high purple pine dro
Diamond wings fur February snow
Take yourself a picture when I'm standing at the mound
And I swear its
(Stay alive)
(Stay alive) Where's my son?
Mr. Hamilton, come in, they brought him in a half an hour ago
He lost a lot of blood on the way over
aunt's cribs
And borrow a damn dress and one of her blond wigs (can I borrow this?)
Tell her you need a place to stay, you'll be safe for days
If you
I want to tell you all the story
'Bout a Harper Valley widowed wife
Who had a teenage daughter
Who attended Harper Valley Junior High
Well, her
let's get high tonight (my lil' homies)
Lil' homies on the mash
Runnin' from these punk police
'Cause lil' niggas run the streets
I remember, when
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