Lyrics:
With a dozen roses in his gun rack
Junior pulled up into her side lot
He carried them up to the front porch
And hollered, "Wanda, look at what I
don't need no gun
But it's the 90's and n****s don't bump by the end of the round
The clown bound to dump, young chump
You don't wanna get caught up in
Looking at baby's face I saw the plight of the
Human race
Dying to survive
Shaken by the irony the anger rose inside of me
And would not, would
on the target, and wham
One shot, one gun shot and bam!
Hey, Mr. Ziegfeld, here I am!
I'm the greatest star
I am by far
But no one knows it
That's why I
don't recognize we been using it wrong
So I'ma break it down and put my game in a song
N-E-G-U-S, say it with me, or say it no more
Black stars can
on the target, and wham
One shot, one gun shot and bam!
Hey, Mr. Ziegfeld, here I am!
I'm the greatest star
I am by far
But no one knows it
That's why I
be stuck
In a one-room shack and kickin' back
Daydreamin' with the nine in my lap
So how's that from the mind of a thug n****?
Bought a fo'-five
Well I've kicked around a lot since high school
I've worked a lot of nowhere gigs
From keyboard man in a rock'n ska band
To haulin' boss crude
my oh
Me gotta go pole the pirogue down the bayou
My Yvonne the sweetest one, me oh, my oh
Son of a gun we're gonna have big fun on the bayou.
Finally my house,
I will have it complete.
And I'll take up a smoke,
Sitting by the window sill.
And I'll read my many books
That I'll have in my bachelors
wicked Felina, the girl that I loved
So in anger I challenged his right for the love of this maiden
Down went his hand for the gun that he wore
My
bring their beer n all
N when the lights went out, a cheer rose in the air
Well, folks just got too civilized
Sparky's gatherin' dust
Cause no one
Pruno and Kool-Aid
She had a tattoo gun made out of a cassette motor and a guitar string
She soaked a hanky in three Roses and rubbed it on the spot
I was down the glen one Easter morn
To a city fair rode I
There armed lines of marching men
In squadrons passed me by
No pipe did hum, no battle drum
guy!
Sweat all day in the sun!
Roofer by trade,
Quite a bundle I've made,
I'm unionized roofin' old
Son-of-a-gun!
(He's a unionized roofin' old
be 'till the day I die,
C-O-U-N-T-R-Y
My baby looks hot in her high heel shoes,
She looks even cooler in her cowboy boots.
She can dance
Come now, my little rose, sit here by the fireplace
Take a bit of lazy time, resting in my arms
Let me warm your frozen nose, let me see you dancing
'm a lil' n**** so you know I run fast
But don't do much of it
Do a lot of gun busting
'Cause when I let off a clip, I get a kick
Outta seeing n****s run
Woke up this mornin', (yeah)
You got yo'self a gun (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Got yo'self a gun
Yo, I'm livin' in this time behind enemy lines so
I got
Fuck that shit, 'cause I ain't the one
For a punk motherfucker with a badge and a gun
To be beatin' on, and thrown in jail
We can go toe to toe in
Let it be prophesized; n****s'll die because ya crew's goon
Around the way n****s get murdered by the full moon
Heard it in whispered tones
N
just another story
And every gimmick hungry yob digging gold from rock 'n' roll
Grabs the mic to tell us he'll die before he's sold
But I believe in
brains out
Stick to yer guns
Stick to yer guns
Stick to yer guns
And I'll be target practice
Stick to yer guns
Stick to yer gunnnnnnnnns
Go on n
miranda.
By that rose we may well see There be one God in persons three, Pares forma.
The angels sungen the shepherds to: 'Gloria in excelsis Deo':
.jpg/300px-GNR_London_Stadium_2017_3_(cropped).jpg "Guns N' Roses")
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