Lyrics:
By Joe Thomas & Howard Biggs
This is Eric Clapton's version
I've got you on my mind, I'm feeling kind of sad and low,
I've got you on my mind,
You only see me when I'm rapping and I'm Sun Light
Just give me some time and you'll wonder why I'm still unsigned
A mixture of The Game and Eric
Rhyming in the shower type preparation
Imma prodigy in the making
Ion plan on lacking, come clap me
Rock harder than Eric Clapton did
I’m eggcelent ,
back it's like
You revolve with your shit on safety
You might as well of wanted the Lux
Cause now when you got heat
It's like you still
Ain't Loaded
I walk on the set lights camera action
If Tom on the beat call him Eric Clapton
Tryna talk on the fleet I swear to God I'll clap him
Yeah we come
address me as a human I thought that I told you my
Bullets comin' out in fashion
Cold shooter, got the Eric Clapton
Never miss a mark above the average
No
crashin'
But if I go to Heaven would ya'll know my name
Or would it be the same for you like I was Eric Clapton, huh?
Clap for your freedom dog, that's
crashin'
But if I go to Heaven would ya'll know my name
Or would it be the same for you like I was Eric Clapton, huh?
Clap for your freedom dog, that's
crashin'
But if I go to Heaven would ya'll know my name
Or would it be the same for you like I was Eric Clapton, huh?
Clap for your freedom dog, that's
Eric Clapton
And all I wanted was one 16 ain't enough
Talking that fast money 15 every month
When your people labelled poor, that motivated me more
you can't toy with
The def jam juicer rough rhyme producer
Loads of lyrics get you loose, then looser
The man so smooth and world so rough
Eric is
and the, them finger waves
Me and Miss Thing doing duets in hurricanes
Eric Clapton songs, watch your world change
You headline my mine
Got me stuck on front
Zapp and Eric Clapton, Shaft, Frank Zappa crunk
And yeah, baby, I want another crack at ya
You can beat me with any spatula that you want
I mean, I
crashin'
But if I go to Heaven would ya'll know my name
Or would it be the same for you like I was Eric Clapton, huh?
Clap for your freedom dog, that's
creeped where the hustlers crept
And got they O's off, you reach, niggas uppin' like Steph
To blow your nose off, gesundheit, and then resume flight
crashin'
But if I go to Heaven would ya'll know my name
Or would it be the same for you like I was Eric Clapton, huh?
Clap for your freedom dog, that's
Does some wizz, loves the biz
Your Eric Clapton's and your Nancy's and your Sids
Mr. Jones helped me understand
The worthless piece of lowlife that I am
you man
To the godfather B.B. King
and to my man Eric Clapton
I think I'm forgettin somebody, man
The Artist, ha-haaaaa
Yo, Jerry Wonder, man,
And skull shots till we fall from grace like Eric Clapton's son,
South of the country, west of the city,
Chip into that kitty if we're going to be drinking
Here she comes walk'n in
That menthol hanging from her lip
She smells like Mary Jane
Her hips are singing Eric Clapton's "Cocaine"
But I’ve done
knows
That I got more riffs than Randy Rhoads
Smash, slash and when I trash I bash
I get ill I chill but you don't know the half
I trip I rip
knows
That I got more riffs than Randy Rhoads
Smash, slash and when I trash I bash
I get ill I chill but you don't know the half
I trip I rip
knows
That I got more riffs than Randy Rhoads
Smash, slash and when I trash I bash
I get ill I chill but you don`t know the half
I trip I rip
[originally by Eric Clapton]
It's late in the evening
She's wonderin' what clothes to wear
She puts on her make-up
And brushes her long blond hair
_(cropped).jpg/271px-Eric_Clapton_-_Royal_Albert_Hall_-_Wednesday_24th_May_2017_EricClaptonRAH240517-30_(34987232355)_(cropped).jpg "Eric Clapton"){kind=spacer}
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