Lyrics:
and zombies
President Mugabe holding guns to innocent bodies
In Zimbabwe
They make John Pope seem Godly
Sacrilegious and blasphemous
In my lifetime I look
it don't look like no trouble there
As they head for the bar in their lumpy suits
And I slip my hand between the thighs of John Finn's wife
And they
Would be reading, "Dear John"
By the time you read this letter
I'll be feeling much better
So long, it means I'm gone
I wish I could see the look
Look at all my trials and tribulations
Sinking in a gentle pool of wine.
Don't disturb me now, I can see the answers
'Till this evening is this
tree
Christmas tree, oh ooh oh, oh yeah
{piano solo by Dr. John}
Ooh, yeah, oh
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Oh, oh
Oh yeah, yeah, yeah
[Dr. John]
St.
2 Peter 2:20
Words by Bob Hartman
Music by Bob Hartman and John Elefante
There are things that look attractive
On the surface of despair
There are
Christmas
John, Yoko, john, happy Christmas
It's warm and nice and comfy in Ascot
Ac-dc lights
Let's put the lights on the trees
Alright, dear you pass me
out.
What you want.
I said look man, I'm John Lee Hooker, I sing the blues.
They said the President don't have time for the blues.
I said look
couldn't hit me harder
We got infiltrated, like Nino at the Carter
Heard Tec got murdered in a town I never heard of
by some bitch named Alberta over
a baby in a stable, by an unknown father,
Who, me, jelous, what do ya mean!, I'm a material girl too, I've been on MTV, once, I made a video with Mick
and clear
Like the waters I heard sing.
He said "We searched quite a time
For a place to call our own.
There was just me and Mary John
And now I guess we're
You niggas don't even know
All that talk then no show
Cannot tell me nothin'
Show me somethin' I ain't seen before
That hoe want my piccolo
call me a slut, who gives a fuck
That's fine nigga, shit, I'm a good with mine
I can tell by your shoes you know what I want
Fuck a prenup, give me
(look, Great John on the beat, by the way)
My old shit sound like they new shit
I bet you already knew this, look
Bitches around 'cause the crew lit
a Backwood, Swisher sweet blunt, orange lace dope (let's go)
It's just some shit I wrote
My city couldn't be saved by John the Pope (John the Pope)
I slid
double C on my feet
Double G on my freak (ooh), Louis V by my brick
She wan' kick it with me, she better eat it then leave (leave, whoa)
She try save
Son
Well now me and Homer and Big John Talley
Had a big crap game goin' back in the alley
And I kept rollin' them sevens and winnin' all them
might as well forget it Lord, 'cause I can't qualify
Oh, by the way, Lord, right before they kicked me out, didn't I see a picture of you?
With
come back and win by three
Alright!
I love it!
Fuck you guys!
Sorry, buddy...
Who's the new guy?
Oh, that's my friend John.
Hey John... sweet hat!
killing me
My second pack of cigarettes
It's a slow night but there's time yet
Here comes John from his other life
He may be driving to his wife
But
In your face, all the time
All in your face when I'm kickin' my rhyme
All these faces in front of me
Face to face with Run-D.M.C
Knuckleheads
John Connor?
You know that I could use John Connor
I look for you in Sherman Oaks the gallery-a
Look you up in the phone book
To find your street
You
I got the bait to catch ya, i'm the big fish in the pond
And i'm fishing with a pole, they call me silvers john long
If that don't excite ya and i'm
I am like her, I look like her
Or at least I hope
I remember what I remember
Fogged up mirror scope
Hang onto me, I'm evergreen
I retrace it, I
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