Lyrics:
Tical Part 3
Ain't no stopping when you start me, John Jay
Pulling your card, mayday mayday, niggas owe they life to God
And now it's payday, take it
line
There's no "Baby you're fine I want to make you mine"
'Cause Honey was offended by the pick up line
Well excuse me
Well excuse me
Well
but I
Wouldn't write any line that
Was as good as the lines being written
In the rooms next to me
It was just like: I had to
Elevate i was looking at
It
wrestling
Then send em home to their boyfriend
Getting questioned
Now he's stressing, look at me flexing
Catching hoes all in the field like DJackson
Catch
you right back to school
My lines all heat, 'though I'm always cool (Levin, cool)
You're acting dumb
What's your profit tell me what is the sum
Call me
are an expert at sorry and keeping lines blurry
Never impressed by me acing your tests
All the girls that you've run dry have tired, lifeless eyes
are an expert at sorry and keeping the lines blurry
Never impressed by me acing your tests
All the girls that you've run dry have tired lifeless eyes
to chill like that!
Too many Chiefs not enough Indians
If you have Cheefy problems
Don't be bring them my way
Or
Send them my way
My lines are to hot it
John and Jonathan are on the town
John and Jonathan, they go up, they go down
At the Bowery, in line they wait
They will stay all night then wake
are an expert at sorry and keeping the lines blurry
Never impressed by me acing your tests
All the girls that you've run dry have tired lifeless eyes
What's up, Boat?
Ayy, ayy
(ShittyBoyz)
Track two's got me euro-steppin' like I'm ball playin'
If it's smoke, we gon' send some shots and leave
right out of those woods
Old Dillon had a million tales but he sung me one refrain
And I recall that song by John Dillon James
One July Monday morning
believe, the words coming down the line
My friend had died, he was only 51
Here’s to you best man John, I’m so sorry that you’re gone
My heart goes out
line like dominos
Midas touch, all the shit I do always turns to gold
One by one these bitches fall in love like dominos
Stay beside me like John
lacking at the store now he done up the score ni
He like fuck 5-0 tryna send me to the dog pond
And he sticked up like rambo ever time that nigga move
send me a sign
Send me a sign girl
Is you good, is you ayt, is you cool, will you ride? Like
Send me a sign
I ain't even gon trip, I just need those lips
Walk up like the shit, they send me back in line, yeah
See that look they gave me, when they passing by, yeah
Might go fly to Saturn, imma satellite,
Parody of Sold: The Grundy County Auction by John Michael Montgomery (R. Fagan/R.Royer), Of Music (ASCAP)/RobbRoy West Music (BMI)
New Lyrics
in speech balloons
And disappearing in Tequila fumes
Another line? Fine.
I love you Ben, let me count the ways
Whoops here comes the Spaghetti
easter pink
I had to send the bitch home
'cause she keep drinkin' my lean
She likе an abortion clinic
She just wanna drink my semen
Bitch I got John Wick
Line my knees
Renounce every curse on me (every curse on, me)
By the power invested in me
I bring that beast to his hands and knees (bring it to it's
sent
Here to give y'all the truth jAY-Z, call me
Bruh! You still ain't call me
JAY-Z, call me, ay bruh jAY-Z
I know you got killers
Please don't send 'em
here
To give y’all the truth
Jay Z, call me
Bruh! You still ain’t calling me! Jay
Z, call me! Aye, bruh, I
Know you got killers
Please don’t send them
basket. And
finally Oliver St John-Mollusc (G.C.), Harrow and the Guards, thought
by many to be this year's outstanding twit. Now they're moving up
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