Lyrics:
Pair of Muckalucks scraping across
The shag carpet
And the impending squint of
First light, that lurked behind
A weeping marquee in downtown Putnam
a postcard
And turn my fantasy to reality
A nasty stain on the carpet
Perfectly matches all the ones in my bed
Instead of grinding your gusset
Why not give me
Now I am breathing,
Now I am seeing,
All the love that is flowing,
Confidence is growing,
Riding high on the magic carpet,
Way ahead of time.
carpet or the runway
I love the way you w-w-work the bitch
You should be walkin' in the room
With an arm of an iced out pimp like me
Fine in the face
the hills in the carpet
Knots in the ties that bind us
So tightly to our waking lives
I'll build up a house, I'll build up an army
Of cellophane soldiers,
tick
It's the reason I could pull up on a thick chick
So fine and her ass so thick thick
I told her, "Let me be your manager
On the red carpet while
the bitch)
Uh, cause a pimp like me just wanna work that bitch hard
What, when you walkin' the red carpet or the runway
I love the way you (w-work the bitch)
to lend
Now there's more to do
Than watch my sailboat glide
And every day can be
My magic carpet ride
A little bit of courage is all we lack
So
me chasing down red carpets, and watching all my friends slip away,
They're finding me out,
I'm having my doubts,
I'm losing the best of me.
? the dawn has left
A present by the door
Didn't know 'til I walked
Them steps are caused to fall
Life calls you on the carpet
What else can
up onto the lawn
smoked your last cigarette and spilled the beer on the carpet
answered the phone and said you didn't live here anymore
and it was
are all going home
The lover who just walked out your door
Has taken all his blankets from the floor
The carpet, too, is moving under you
And it's
rolled up the carpet in space monkey town
Now leningrad is petersburg and petersburg's hell
For a card-carrying monkey with a story to tell
The space
walls
I thank you Lord
I thank you Lord above this orange carpet
And the ceiling above it
Who left Murph the Surf On my ceiling?
Iggy
Now here we
trying
Just trying to crush me
Do you feel stronger each time you push me, dear
Did you tell your mom you carpet bombed
Before you left here
'em high
Sweat on the carpet, blood on the walls
Nothin' can stop me, stop the applause
They thought I was over, down on the floor
Ain't tappin'
gotta throw it down
She gon' let me fuck, counter, carpet then rug now
Deep in the hundreds you lovin' the way I like the wrist
Nigga say I be biting
a stylist for?)
Before red carpets I was into narcotics
Beatin' bad bitches, rats and all charges
Black Gucci flip flops steppin' off teak
Gotta get from
my house, don't wear your creps on my carpet
Life of a misfit, broke nigga forfeit
Four figure outfit, three course meal
I put my money where my
carpet
Dem don't got guns like these
Dem don't got thugs like these
We run these streets with trees
And keys and things that sting like bees
Dem
(Take 4679, part two, hour eight, hour eight)
(Yeah)
Heaven is a place hidden on your floor
I'm falling off the carpet edge and it's a long way
the cattle as they go by the door
Keeping a carpet that's so thick on the floor
But hear me calling
Won't you give me
A free ride
Hear me calling
Won't
on roach-infested carpet
Tiptoe in my mother's room see a dresser
And felt no pressure when takin' a twenty off it
Compton like a closed coffin
We walk in
spokes
They was organizing, investing in a piece of the hood
They had drugs, bettin numbers, police understood
They played the Cotton Club, red carpet
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