Lyrics:
the hands of time
She's got long blonde hair and deep big eyes
I got all I ever need when at girl is by my side
Everything I love is there inside
shell
A lonely cell in which
An empty heart must dwell
What kind of lips are these
That lied with every kiss
That whispered empty words of love
some)
Boom, boom, boom on your black ass, bitch
You could get the finger, the middle (come and get some)
Niggas love to point the finger
Boom, boom,
advance
I drink it (I think it) I see it (I be it)
I love Brass Monkey but I won't give D It
We got the bottle, you got the cup
Come on everybody let's
old pickup truck
Shotgun seat, there's the one you love and you're kissin' on
Get those white sails sailing down in Mexico
Its just a whiskey glass if
ya have
But I don't want a one night thrill
I want a love that's for real
And I can tell by your line, your's is not the lasting kind
You took me
Once upon a time, there was a little black girl
In the Brewster Projects of Detroit, Michigan
At fifteen, she was spotted by an Ebony Fashion Fair
Dressed in black
He walks alone, a shadow in the night
Each time he walks by my window
Can't hold the tears from my eyes
We're so much in love
And long black shaggy hair hanging in her face
(How much, how much, how much longer?)
(How much, how much, how much longer?)
Everybody says you're usin'
sugar
Sugar sugar sugar sugar sugar
Ah, it ain't over child
Your racing car
Raised by the boldness
You know you are
Your lips like cherries
everybody finds out (I I I I, I I I I)
See the vulture circling dark clouds (I I I I, I I I I)
Love's a fragile little flame, it could burn out (I I I I, I
through the fire
Your love is my scripture
And let me in through your encryption, yeah, yeah
Coke on her black skin made it stripe like a zebra
I call
And long black shaggy hair hanging in her face
(How much, how much, how much longer?)
(How much, how much, how much longer?)
Everybody says you're usin'
preaching peace by the steeple
Yeah, we practice precaution
'Cause we peep how they peelin'
Capture blacks 'til they fascinated
We sing why we grievin'
Like, don't listen to rap, it's the evil music of today
But, I really fell in love with the sound that was coming out form the East Coast
So we got it
Funeral
(Tommy Collins)
(Spoken)
Let me tell you about a man Tommy Collins
A veteran in country music who interrputed his career by his own choice
and the love of family
Ruled in the community
The songs you sing
Lift you up to heaven
A heaven we can believe in
Everybody's talkin' about hard times
the other cows go home
Gossip 'til their lips are bleeding
Politics and all
I'd rather be high (I'd rather be high)
I'd rather be flying (I'd rather be
the other cows go home
Gossip 'til their lips are bleeding
Politics and all
I'd rather be high (I'd rather be high)
I'd rather be flying (I'd rather be
and them Hatians
N****s can't take it when they shake an make me rape 'em
White girl's I video tape 'em and they enjoy it
They love it when everybody
crooked in my section, everybody gossipin'
People show me love tryin' to make some dollars off of me
Let me lose my voice bet you ho'll stop callin' me
Everybody think you shy but I know you a freak
Lil' baby (yeah)
I been overseas goin' crazy (yeah)
I can tell you love it when we made up (ayy)
Black
(buss it)
Everybody know that's my
If I wasn't married to the streets, it'd be you
Yo' lips, what make you so cute
Love when you poke yo' mouth out
trippin' 'round midnight
Circle jerkin' redneck truckers' dream
You scream, I scream
Everybody screams for morphine
I won't love you, mama, I just fiend your
.jpg/220px-Everybody_else_is_doing_it_so_why_can't_we_(album_cover).jpg "Everybody Else")
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