Lyrics:
By a square-dancin' farmer, well
That old bum was sticking out his thumb
When the farmer drew up, said
"Listen son", and the horse compared his
Free to be without the worries of a quick to diss society
For Mr. Wendal's a bum
His only worries are sickness
And an occasional harassment by
Daddle-at-dat-dat-dumb, I couldn't aspire
To anything higher
Than, filled with desire
To make you my own
Bup-bum, butle-doodle-dumb-bum!
I wanna be loved by you,
so terrible if I had a small fortune?"
If I were a rich man
Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum
All day long, I'd biddy biddy bum
If I
so terrible if I had a small fortune?"
If I were a rich man
Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum
All day long, I'd biddy biddy bum
If I
arrogant (acting arrogant)
All over (all over)
I hate to be alone
I hate to be alone
Ain't no fun by myself
I can't be with no one else
Damn I can't believe
You all alone so could you spot me for the dance
You acting grown and I could tell by how you stand
You Ain't for nothing but I'm like give me
You all alone so could you spot me for the dance
You acting grown and I could tell by how you stand
You Ain't for nothing but I'm like give me
you have done to me
How bout you think of antipsychotics for delusional thinking
Peripheral vision
Blocked by ambitions
Blocked by money missions
couldn't find her
I asked a drunken bum where he was. He said he got the fuzz. Ow
And I went to find her and got her and kissed her. And we were happy
far, far away from the bums
Just know when it all fall, I'm one of them ones, oh, oh, oh
This ain't nothin' that you used to
Doin' it by the beach,
Consumed by you and me
Nicole
Nicole, I love you
I'm thinking of you
With every motion I make
When the stars are above you
Know that I miss you
Five hundred racks, sold out
I never been more proud
Need more light on me (bum, bum)
Shine on me
This my final form
Tell 'em all, "Chile, please"
the hell I'm from
'Cause I'm sprayin' emcees with my mack ten machine gun
The hand that rocks will be the hand of the gun bum
Rum-pum-pum-pum-pum is
scorched by the sun that day
Man
We had fun that day
And at night after dark
When our bellies were full the fireflies came out for a private night show
Kool-Aid gives you hella 151 November dog so run kitty run
We gon' drink it until we dumb-ditty-dumb, bum-bitty-bum
Here Kansas City come so give me some
scuffle all because of Willis Reed
Now there's one more bar in New York
I can't get me what I need
One by one, the doors are closing
One by one,
is red so beautiful
Like an angel in disguise
But if you meet a friendly horse
Will you communicate by
Mo-o-o-o-orse?
Mo-o-o-o-orse?
MJ, game 6, Jackson, Tyson
Quiet dog, my phone changed up
I'm icin' up my Barbie chains up
And when I come, get your change cup
These bum bitches
da sua voz
”I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by
madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves
through the negro streets...”
you're standing still
Your fur is red so beautiful
Like an angel in disguise but if you meet
A friendly horse
Will you communicate by mo-o-o-o-orse?
as a cane (it came with a 30)
I'm not a rapper, got raised by trappers, they taught me the game (OGs)
Got on them frames by Louis (eat it up), but I wear my
bitch, you need to run and go get your frigity-friends
I'm looking at your bum-stickity-bum, hun
The mickity mack's bickity back, don't act wickity-wack
Gumy balonowej resztki na twarzy, gdy
Gdy patrzysz jak powietrzem wypełniam
I cienka powłoka pęka, bum
Zapach truskawki uwolnił się
I kłamię
Znów
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