Lyrics:
when the real work started
Still showed up every mornin', every evenin' of every season (straight up, whoa)
What's the reason? God got me workin'
have hurried by
Why did they fly, fly away
Why is it sir children, grow up to be people one day?
What takes the place of climbing tres and dirty
Hipsters, tripsters real cool chicks, sir
Everyone's doing that rag
Everyone's doing that rag
You needn't gild the lily
Offer jewels to the sunset
No one is
whole lot of shakin goin' on
Ah let's go
Well, come over, baby, we got chicken in the barn
Whose barn, what barn, my barn
Come on over, baby, better
a whole lot
Hold on to what you got
Tomorrow don't promise a whole lot
Great balls of fire! You work so hard
You break your back to keep your job
Times
role, baby
You ain't got enough dough to pay me
You know the pen number, just page me
When you're real, baby
Damn Ma, I love you like a lot
Gonja,
Disrespect, I shoot ya
By the way, them bricks, get flipped weekly
Sold by soldiers that mix weed with the leak leak
Die for a dollar nigga, life ain't sweet
music
And some honky-tonk, in the mix
I like whiskey in coke, a double to the top
A shot of cuervo now and then
I never ask for a lot, I'll
Disrespect, I shoot ya
By the way, them bricks, get flipped weekly
Sold by soldiers that mix weed with the leak leak
Die for a dollar nigga, life ain't sweet
what they want
Ladies and Gentlemen
Why is that when wrong is done by the black
It's blown out of proportion and immediately attacked
By the press
Disrespect, I shoot ya
By the way, them bricks, get flipped weekly
Sold by soldiers that mix weed with the leak leak
Die for a dollar nigga, life ain't sweet
taken by surprise when I quickly closed my eyes.
So she rang the bell, and quick as hell
Bob the Nob came out on his job
To see what the trouble was.
got to keep on searchin' harder, day by day
'Cause I want you, and you, you, you, you, you, you, you you and you
To stand on up, yes sir
Put a little
Bullshit! You didn't convince me! Let me see your real war face!
HARTMAN
You didn't scare me! Work on it!
JOKER
Sir, yes, sir!
COWBOY
Sir, excuse for what
and can't lose
Your man knows who's nice, say Tip, he'll say "True"
A lot of these jokers out here is blase
I'll be rockin' mics until a horse says hey
on the low
Yeah I like my music slow, yeah I like my train mud
I'm chopped up by Michael Watts, it's Paul Wall baby that's what's up
Eighty-fo's
the music loud
I'm bout to mix it up and blend in in the crowd
Whip, slip, slide by the dancefloor
Baby grab me by the hand say she wanna dance, oh oh
Is
shot a lot of folk
We be in and out of court
And I done seen so many cowards croak
It's like watching flowers grow
I mean, please, don't you cowards
changing
Yeah, he does that a lot doesn't he? Umm, oh, I'm David Bowie. I live down the road
Oh!
Sir Percival lets me use his piano when he's not
to Grandview," yeah
That's what she told me
There's been a lot of years, a lot of debts, a lot of pain
Our youngest baby's movin' out when she gets married
we're real so we're still around
Don't lamp wit a freestyle phantom ain't tryin' to be handsome
Shrinkin', what ya thinkin' 'cause I'm vampin'
I
From da cradle to da grave Your responsibility-I doan mean maybe Da bottom line sir, dat YOUR BABY / Chorus You gotta play by Kinja rules Forget about
A lot of these cats out here be faking
When it comes to making love
But you and me baby
This is real, and that's why it's
(N-N-Number one) Sex,
and we play real loud country soul
While rockin and we be so proud
Let me play and sing do what we want to do
The crowd will love us when we're rockin
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