Lyrics:
rap
Got to pay to get your boys back
I'ma kidnap artists
Real artists
Fake artists
Strong artists
Weak artists
Tight jeans wearing new rap R&B
Casey Junior's comin' down the track
Comin' down the track
With a smokey stack
Hear him puffin' comin' 'round the hill
Casey's here to thrill
Every
baby Jacques!
Fuck, I was dreamin'!
Junior, get the fuck up!
Fuck, I cummed on my boxers, fuck!
Get yo ass up boy! Fuck they want? Fuck!
Baby Jacques
to an Eskimo
Said, he was hopping for a fall of snow
When up popped a sea lion, ready to go
Let's go, let's go, let's go, let's go
Down to Junior's farm
Even though the things the do are wrong?
[JUNIOR:]
Mmm, mmm! I remember...
Stand!
[BACKUP BOYS: ]
Stand up! Stand up!
[JUNIOR:]
For
I go home with you?
Tell, your mommy and your pappa (yee-ay!)
Junior, was a school boy, too
(that was junior wells, junior wells)
Well, I don't want
WooooH! (Laugh) OW! OW! Are you there junior? I'm here senior! Ah lets go!
We want to take you to outer space
we want to shake you- the human race
good. This could be interesting. Carry on!
Larry: Cebu! Sing it with me! Cebu!
Jimmy, Jerry & Junior: Cebu!
Larry: Boy is riding with cebu
Jimmy, Jerry
little girl's hair
Man, junior, behave yourself
Buy every rock and roll book on the magazine stand
Every dime that he get is lost to the jukebox man
motherfucka)
And he is five hunnid (Birdman Junior)
Five hunnid (Birdman Junior, nigga)
Five hunnid (Birdman Junior, nigga)
Five hunnid degrees, please (ayy
little girl's hair
Man, junior, behave yourself
Buy every rock and roll book on the magazine stand
Every dime that he get is lost to the jukebox man
little girl's hair
Man, junior, behave yourself
Buy every rock and roll book on the magazine stand
Every dime that he get is lost to the jukebox man
look up my number
Call me on the phone and say
Hey, boy, where you been so long
Don't you know me
I'm your ace in the hole
Two hundred dollars,
town
They say, ya coulda at least faked it, boy
(Could've at least faked it, boy) fake it, boy
At an early age he hits the street
Winds up tied with
town
They say, ya coulda at least faked it, boy
(Could've at least faked it, boy) fake it, boy
At an early age he hits the street
Winds up tied with
A bad little boy moved into the neighborhood
He won't do nothin' right just a-sittin' got to look so good
He don't wanna go to school and learn
Senior: Boy b-boy boys, I'm handsome and tall,
Junior: Girl g-girl girls, I'm nasty and small,
Senior: But I'm a man, man I don't need no chick,
Said he was hoping for a fall of snow
When you popped a sealion ready to go
Let's go let's go let go let go
Down to junior's farm where I want
Casey Junior's coming down the track
Coming down the track
With a smoky stack
Hear him puffing, coming round the hill
Casey's here to thrill
Miner speaker cancer message
Swallow mixture glasses necklace
Cupboard receipt applaud outside
Artist expose junior solid
Miner speaker cancer
Mashed potatoes, lima beans,
Red eye gravy, collard greens,
Cutest waitress you've ever seen,
Down at Junior's grill.
Sweet Ginger brings
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