Lyrics:
paid in different amounts
To a Mister James Reynolds way back in
Seventeen ninety-one
Is that what you have, are you done?
You are uniquely
they'll still talk about us when we've died.
JESUS
The end...is just a little harder, when brought about by friends.
For all you care, this wine
and see
I be the latter
Four thousand years after King James claimed God's brain (who, me?)
I said I'm flattered, time hoppin' like Peabody and Sherm
drink the wine from our own vineyards
To revel in the taste of our final battlements
Dethroned
Expelled from desolation by the odour of our dead
Cotton
Like the lion tears the flesh off of a man
So can a woman who passes herself off as a male
They sang "Danny Boy" at his funeral and the Lord's
surfin and I'm HD ready
So I flip, garbage is all I'm getting
The Simon Cal, who folks want to disembowel
He oppens his mouth, always say something fowl
Ladies being hit through wickedness, I'm losing my grip
I thought we lived by the books, The Bible, Koran
We pick cotton, my back is still hot and dark
The Cremation of Sam McGee
The Cremation of Sam McGee
(Robert W. Service)
There are strange things done 'neath the midnight sun
by the men who moil
too far
Just a little joke to show how homophobic you are
And who can blame ya
Boy Meets World
I'm trying to find a new Topanga
And bang her out,
James DeBarge]
Ev'ryday I gotta watch these suckas roll by, keep an eye on they
Started spotted (?) I don't know why
Turned my back on an awesome party,
Thought about me
More often than I thought of you, it is true
Just admit it
I dragged my ass to Mississippi
Where cotton's king and rivers weepy
looking backwards as we run
Crusaders come by fat guys who sing
You'll be the one not believing anything
What do I do for you lately
What can I do for
[Operator]
Too Black Records
[James A. Smith]
Yeah, this is Jay
[Operator]
Hold on, Jay
[Too Black Records Representative]
Hey Jay, long
teddy's not that fucking dumb
Grow up
Someday you will
Wake up someday you will see
Don't you try to run
You were made by me
Shape up
Put your cotton in
You know I, this is James Brown
I'm such a lover of people
Because people did so much for me
I'm a lover of all humanity, all man kind
And I feel
Yeah!
We gon' straight into something real, real
Real dynamic for hip-hop
Two thousand and eight shit
In the name of the late
Great James Yancey AKA
for James the Stuart king
And he's called the Highland Rogue by the soldiers of the Crown
Wi' a bounty on his head sure they hunt him up and down
He
my lady
Who's my daddy tonight
Cotton and leather
Never looked better together
You and I will die
Oh my oh my
But silicone lasts forever
I'm such
They walked the path in Jesus' way
From distant lands their story grows
In every heart the truth still flows
The twelve who stood by love and grace
Their
there's whites, separated by the green
After five hundred years, think we play for the same team
Smokescreen, make the president a black guy
It ain't no
Wait, hold up, chill, what's that, son?
Damn nigga got fucked, shit, huh
By his back, watch nigga run
Seven the center of your eight point Sun
shotgun here you get the gate
Wearing cotton anywhere you owe a thanks
And you can take that all the way to the local bank by god
I got some land here in
Last night I went to sleep in Detroit City
I dreamed about them cotton fields of home
I dreamed about my mother, dear old pappy, sister and brother
here could not be finer
It suits to sail off Carolina shore
I'll tell you more and more over
Cotton threads to keep me cool
In the sun-swept
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