Lyrics:
time to you is worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin'
Or you'll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin'
Come writers and critics
Well I saw a story in the paper
Suddenly the bands big news
The critics all like our records just fine
But they seem a bit confused
Is it folk
have heard you play Chopin, the critics applaud and approve
But millions more would simply adore to hear you get in the groove
You won't believe it,
Right outside this lazy summer home
You ain't got time to call your soul a critic, no
Right outside the lazy gate of winter's summer home
the road)
Observed all the various phases from
Flower power, heavy metal and acid rock
And still all the critics keep saying
"Are they still around? When
critic of mine, yeah
So if you wanna sue me I'm afraid you're gonna have to wait in line
Take a number thanks for calling who loves you baby
Don't forget
and died
He went up to heaven, located his dog
After that, he rejoined his arm
Below all the critics, they took it all back
Cancer robbed the whore
and critics
Who prophesy with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won't come again
And don't speak too soon
For the wheel's still in spin
And there's no
that don't listen, the crowds that don't care.
Been told countless times Boy you ain't goin' nowhere
To do what I do.
So I hope the critics
guy's named Moe, that's us!
When they start to beat it out,
Everybody jumps and shouts,
Tell me who the critics all rave about,
Five guys named Moe.
I'm livin' large as possible, posse unstoppable
Style topical, it's vividly optical
Listen, you'll see 'em sometimes I'll be 'em
Cops, critics
writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won't come again
And don't speak too soon
For the wheel's still in spin
Right outside this lazy summer home
You ain't got time to call your soul a critic, no
Right outside the lazy gate of winter's summer home
a waste of my time
Done looking for the critics 'cause they're everywhere
They don't like my jeans, they don't get my hair
Exchange ourselves and we do
Say what I want about you niggas
I'm like Oprah, dawg
I treat you crackers like I'm Jigga, watch
I own it all
Oh, you worried 'bout a critic?
That
and the critics will test you
But the strong'll survive, another scar may bless you, ah
Don't give up (no no), I won't give up (no no)
Don't give up, no no no
killin' the critics and killin' the hate, might gotta talk to a priest
The way we evolved and knocked down walls, this shit's outrageous
I quarterback
at home, thank God I brought some cash
Then I grab some Preparation H for the critics up my ass
Head to aisle five for some Sgt. Smash cereal
Is this want
to London, got a show for seven digits
I'm wonderin' just when did I become my biggest critic?
I wanna be my biggest fan, like how I was when didn't nobody
seen it before
The exotic, bizarre and beautiful world of "After Life"
And this is your invitation to enter
Critics say "After Life" makes your
on my heart, my first tough decision
In the shadows, clingin' to my soul as my only critic
Where's my faith? Told you I was Christian, but just not
a better design
Critics, "He's out of his mind" (I began to lose control)
Haters, "He's out of his prime"
Yet, always where the money's at like lottery
The rap critics say I can rhyme
The fiends say my dope is a nine, every chick I fuck with is a dime
I'm like Patti LaBelle, homie, I'm on my own
Where I
Well, I do, so fuck him and fuck you too
You think I give a damn about a GRAMMY?
Half of you critics can't even stomach me, let alone stand me
"But
.jpg/220px-The_Backyard_(album).jpg "The Backyard Critics")
Discuss these critics Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In