Lyrics:
impressionist is
The trouble with personalities, they're too wrapped up in style
It's too personal, they're in love with their own guile
They're like illegal
I don't like the code in my genes
I live my life in pink lucid fuzzy dreams
Blessed with all the dope talent
Pray they switch their techniques up
Drop so much they can't keep up
Losing count, account balance
Seen
When I was fifteen I had a black crepe jacket and sideboards to my chin
I used to go around in a two-tone Zephyr with a mean and nasty grin
just ain't right
I ain't got the strength to turn a good lovin loose
But I never met a man in my life who could whoop it to me like you do
Bout
Gene
There's a place way down in Brentwood
Out to Georgio's we all g'wine
The maitre 'd's gonna take care of everything
He's a personal friend
'cause its already sold
And you don't gotta roll one 'cause its already rolled
Check out my technique, just weed let it fold
Shit I've been smokin' since I
When marimba rhythms start to play
Dance with me, make me sway
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more
Like a flower bending in
Oh Greasy Gene
Bank robbing machine
He's never seen a bath in his life
Hide your kids and hide your wife
He's roaming 'round the town tonight
In his
Her husband works in Jodrell Bank,
He's home late in the morning,
Had he been a lawyer,
He wouldn't work for pennies.
In the morning I go
money made us merciless
It's the birth of the streets its over they said
Rappers crossed over they dead
I spit my verse with technique till they know when
Using modern technique, I place a beat in a rap
I went to learn acquire knowledge of a scholar went to college, all
Comes very handy when it comes
don't know if this bows time
But I'd like to have you
Meet Mister Gene Page
A fine arranger and orchestrator
We'd also like to have you give a fine
Round
Using modern technique, I place a beat in a rap
I went to learn acquire knowledge of a scholar went to college, all
Comes very handy when it comes
New Year's in Los Angeles, you can still see Richard Blade
But the world forgot about Gene Loves Jezebel
Yeah, the world forgot about Gene Loves
foreplay
I don't do freeplay (Psyke)
I don't do replay, I just do prepaid
African gene, yeah, strength in my DNA
Merc CLA speed demon
Huh, smoking
Conway Twitty & Alvin
(Gene Autry, Oakley Haldeman (c)1947)
Here comes Santa Claus!
Here comes Santa Claus!
Right down Santa Claus Lane!
Vixen
the tourists in and Ray keeps them away
Let there be country and let the country play
Let there be country
Ernest Tubb's got all of the soul he's had for
No we won't stop, fuck it call the cops (uh-huh)
I be the invincible, in the school of hard knocks
I'm the principle, Fatman Joe ya know
[Parrish
and all we had
Never were and won't return
Lost in a fire that cannot burn
Hold on
Hold on
Hold on, hold on
There's got to be a future
Or the world
inside
And I serve it up fried
God, I love little fishes, don't you?
Here's something for tempting the palette
Prepared in the classic technique
Buck Owens & Doyle Holly
(Gene Price)
I guess I was born with a bad luck
I never heard a good luck call
And if it wasn't for a bad luck
I wouldn't
to lie upon a clean, cool floor
She's hardly talking and I really think she's knockin
I think she's knock knockin on death's door
She want a man a treat
Voor die gene in een schuilhoek achter glas
voor die gene met de dicht beslage ramen
voor die gene die dacht dat hij alleen was
moet nu weten we zijn
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