Lyrics:
said
Let's get the boredom off your head
Cross their head if they say there ain't no meth, coke and weed or alcohol
I don't care. I need them. I see
Time really flies by, doesn't it
You know what
I think I'll start to love myself
Focus only on fixing my mental and physical health
I'll trickle
/ Lovin’ Machine (x2)
Verse:
Boogaloo pop ‘n’ lock it with a Toe Loop Twist,
Followed by a double backflip Into the splits,
No one on the floor is
untouched by the last of the three
Just God's Holy Bible would interest Harold Dee
But he'd read it and recite it in his study for days
Without eating
You know sex 'em up a little bit
You know what I mean?
You're the honey that I see when I'm riding by
The one giving me a feeling that I can't deny
Switch on summer from a slot machine
D G D G
Yes, get what you want to if you want 'cos you can
machine
Since 1964, the group had used four track for
All their album albums by but 1966
They found their musical arrangements usually
Required more tracks
Go to a cash machine
To get a ticket home
Message on the screen
Says don't make plans, you're broke
No, no this can't be right
I know that
what I'm sayin'?
I just popped a bean, I just threw my neck back
I'm in the latest machine, I hope I don't wreck it
Bitch threaten me like she gon'
(Ghosty)
Mmm-hmm
Listen
Man down, man down, now we gotta get equal
Put a foot on it, fast, Vin Diesel
Grrr, grab a machine, bro
Run
stay off my line
Cause Hollywood is good, but Brooklyn is bumpin
Ladies each places the three are humpin
Are you confused by the way that I talk?
No,
a battle between these robots and me
I don't think they can take the greatness of three
Do you know what I mean?
Cause when you're being chased
By a bunch
Nicki Minaj's eyeliner is a
Precision event, a marvel
As if drawn on by the kind of
Pre-programmed robot arm used
For laparoscopic surgeries
It is
threat
By a nervous terrorist who's so scared that his palms wet
One, two, three, four
The stuff legends are made of, urban folklore
Like Jim Morrison we
a state of coma boredom
Shouting from their roof tops it's hot like hell, just not like hell
The ground has cracked, that one's the real one
One by one
One, two
One, two, three
Miss Emilia, I said a thousand times that I'd do right by you
Miss Emilia, you turned me cold as ice but I'm still here for
You’re No Lady
Words by Angela Kim
Music by Jim Best
Verse 1
“You’re no lady”
You throw it in my face
Like I’m supposed to care
If I’m not dressed
Eyes on my feet like them Jordan number 3s
Where the fuck you cope those
Conversation full of boredom
Like Yo ass can't afford them
Less you get
They used to call us block boys we had dope and packs by the pound
They used to call us dog out? Might've had ya daughter on couches
They used
ascendancy
Symbol coordinates to distant scenes
Wormhole-generated gateway machines
Voyagers of three-dimensional coordinates
Vast constellation, a network
and count to three
Don't hide don't be unseen
Don't be just a cog in the machine
Just another piece in their big fat broken machine
Manufactured everything
free
living in a world of confusion
Driven by a legacy of greed
Wonders gone forever
Do we look behind and see
take a look turn around
tell me, can
One, two, three to the four
ABEL WITH THE WORKS, bout kill em with a flow
I'm about to gun em off, three times in a row
MONEY MONKEY GANG, I'm
no
There's no gold at all
Got em on me
Got em off green
Got em pristine
Yeah
Aye
Bar or the studio
Clubs like a movie yo
Fuck it bro we doin all three
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