Lyrics:
from his secret hideaway He must've forgot to close his door As he cranked out those dismal chords And his four walls declared him insane I found
Got you cranked up loud, getting pumped up for the night But when we pull in her drive gonna turn you down quiet I'll have one arm around her, one
me one good chance of gettin' that girl to dance So I cranked up my amp And let the guitar do the talkin' and the whole place started rockin' My
I've got a black book full of numbers All the makings of a real hot summer Radio cranked up a-rockin' Week's pay burning a hole in my pocket
the ones who love you as you are Walk it loud like you’re fluid and proud You got permission to use the car Tonight you got your playlists cranked
a time or two But we'll get it cranked back up No matter what we gotta do 'Cause we're all in the same truck Headed down a different two-lane
I just can't sleep so I get in my car and I drive I'm on the 101 and I'm cruisin' by 105 Got the radio cranked and the rhythm is comin' alive Got
used to love to play my demo tape when the system yanked Felt like I was almost signed when the shit got cranked We'll take a Saturday and just circle
I'm hot We can party like a rockstar nonstop Here?s what she told ya boy, she likes that soulja boy She cranked up the ten, cruisin in the benz I
for ones now' It sounded good That band cranked up with some Dixieland Delight That singer might've missed an Alabama note, or five But it
me see if I can get it cranked" "Pat the accelerator a little bit" "Might get it started, now" "Oh yes, I got that thing together now, boy"
bought To have ta run from this punk I dump Nigga what I keep it crunk And cranked lumps in banks Your girl's getting' pumped and spanked Who you aim to be
That's headed straight to heaven But as for now We like to sit around and listen To Audio Adrenaline Cranked to eleven
never caught me Went up to the arcade, cranked the bass And then the five-oh chased us from the place Hop on the railroad, play the conductor
I've got a black book full of numbers All the makings of a real hot summer Radio cranked up a-rockin' Week's pay burning a hole in my pocket
Pink press threat! Man with chip: I'm riding third class on a one-class train. I'm cranked at nought like a Wimpey crane. I'm a pink prole
And the speaker cranked up Because I need my body heat Gimme, gimme your body heat Make me a fire Gimme, gimme your body heat Oh, save me now All I want
Cranked up the stereo in my old truck, iced down a case of Bud Called uncle Vernon said, "Come cut the grass" He showed up on his mower with a half-empty
the tunnels in the maze We don't know where we're going But we got the Stones cranked As fast as the orbit takes us Is just how fast we'll play Around
cameras action, got the calico cranked Where the food at? Hood jewelry on, I gots to do that Long chain hatchet flooded up, you knew that Baby blue mack,
a teenage downloader, Unglued like a bull in a china shop, gone, gone, gone! Cranked like a speed freak high-roller, yanked like a little league ball
A ball of string Might get up to the rain (???) Before I died I took my Honda And cranked it up up up Too bad it don't have no brakes I'm amazed
6 in tha mornin' police kick in my door Slipped on my lugz 'cause these thugs out the back yo Jumped the back gate Cranked the Chevy Then I race
That it ain't no way to be But livin' inside the lines Never did nothin' for me Life is good Cranked up to ten Show me a place where the whole
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