Lyrics:
written by K. Gannon, W. Kent, B. Ram
I'll be home for Christmas
You can count on me
Please have some snow and mistletoe
And presents by the tree
written by K. Gannon, W. Kent, B. Ram
I'll be home for Christmas
You can count on me
Please have some snow and mistletoe
And presents by the tree
Comin', comin
(home) , comin', comin' (home) , yeah
You can see who you like, yeah
As long as you'll be
Mine by tonight, yeah, mine by tonight, yeah
Oh
you're bailin' on plans when you're back home
Oh, and it's comin' right for ya
They taught you in school, yo, they warned ya
You hurt me, you hurt yourself
Don't you fear, for a comin' are the heroes
Don't you fear for your life
Don't you fear for a comin' are the Nein
To defend our home from the comin
Did you think that your feet had been bound
By what gravity brings to the ground?
Did you feel you were tricked
By the future you picked?
Well, come
get back home
Cause if love is being his accomplice
She'd rather be alone
She pulls in at a mobile station
Whispers, babe you just wait right there
He
Did you think that your feet had been bound
By what gravity brings to the ground?
Did you feel you were tricked
By the future you picked?
Well,
stared down by John Cloud
When there was nothing to discuss
He threw tear gas bombs into the crowd
You can burn our churches and bomb our homes
You can
Too many days when I've cried in vain
I'm riding on the wings of passion, so high!
And out of the darkness I'm guided by a light
Now I'm comin' home
and forty nigga
You know you gon' get tackled
Get your land while you can home-man
Niggas so dope they named me twice like Duran Duran
Killa nigga put
They said Marion
You gotta always walk in the light
Folks mistake me
Mhm, some underrate me
Though I'm trying everyday
Trying to do what's right
I
but you let it go by, yee
I was just fucked up, I was just down, down bad
I had to tighten the fuck up, but I'm here for the crown, crown (oh, shit)
A serenade for the moment, then we part ways
Was a church girl, quiet at home, huggin' the pilow and phone
Now you're grown, rollin' bones, holdin' your own
the helpless young drummer mad with desire!
I can't stand the way he pouts
'cause he might not be pouting for me!
Punky meadows, pouting for you?
Ha! you bet
lets just celebrate that we still here and
Whoa
Never leave me alone
Tell em holla at ya boy and cause I'll be comin home
I'll be comin home
Ooh,
to find a job o'work
But they said I's young of age.
My eyes they burned when I heard,
"Go home where you belong!"
I'm a long time a-comin',
An' I'll
this rap shit like it's my loafers
Self appointed King of The Nap so crown me
I only keep the realest of niggas around me
Proudly, comin' from Marion
Pa-paya mama, pearl of the deep blue sea
Tell your pa pa-paya
You're comin' home with me . . . yip!
My sweet pa-paya mamma wears a bamboo
know
The meadow in the poem
Was the place that I called home
And the flower was you, it was you
In the meadow over the hill
There's a flower ever still
naw
[D.Woods:]
I kno you comin home late
[Gorilla Zoe:]
I'm tryna help you get to know me, Yeah
[D.Woods:] (oh yeah)
Got two sides
[Gorilla Zoe:]
Swing low, sweet chariot
Coming for to carry me home
Swing low
Sweet, sweet, sweet chariot, chariot
Comin' for to carry me home, home, yeah-yeah
(Al Geno, on the motherfuckin' track)
If you postin' on the internet, I can't be that real
Walk with me, I'ma show you what these niggas really
man comin', tax man comin')
Money, go back home (tax man comin', tax man comin'!)
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