Down Into Muddy Waters - Lyrics - Aaron Neville

Title: Down Into Muddy Waters
Artist: Aaron Neville
Composer(s): Dennis Linde

Lyric:
Now, you left me here and went out on the town
I don't know when I've been so down
The sky is dark, the moon is blue
I don't know what I'm gonna do
It's like I'm falling down into muddy water

Well, the National Anthem has come and gone
I still got the TV on and white noise, a blue moon
Sitting here waiting up on you
It's like I'm falling down into muddy water

The clock on the wall keeps rollin' on
2 o'clock, 3 o'clock, 4 o'clock, 5
Baby, you still ain't home

Well, I've fought some sleep, in a straight back chair
Morning comes and you still ain't here
Roll on, I've had enough, holding on to faithless love
It's like I'm falling down into muddy water

The clock on the wall keeps rollin' on
2 o'clock, 3 o'clock, 4 o'clock, 5
And baby, you still ain't home

Now, you left me here and went out on the town
I don't know when I've been so down
The sky is dark, the moon is blue
I don't know what I'm gonna do
It's like I'm falling down into muddy water
It's like I'm falling down into muddy water

I'm falling down into muddy water
I'm falling down into muddy water
I'm falling down into muddy water
I'm falling down into muddy water
I'm falling down into muddy water

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ec4eebd190f9532d4a8328297ba007d2

2:00 Your Time - Lyrics - The Madness of the Crowds - Ace Troubleshooter

Title: 2:00 Your Time
Album: The Madness of the Crowds
Artist: Ace Troubleshooter
Composer(s): John Warne

Lyric:
It's two o'clock your time
Midnight mine and I could die to have you here
It's two o'clock your time
Midnight mine and I could die to have you here

Call you up, I'm fat away
Wake you up, but it's okay
You don't mind
I'm not scared to say it now
It's not fair and yet somehow
We're doing fine

It's two o'clock your time
Midnight mine and I could die to have you here

Watch the changing leaves again
But I don't remember when
We saw them fall
When the snowflake covers blue
I will come back home to you
And watch them all

It's two o'clock your time
Midnight mine and I could die to have you here
It's two o'clock your time
Midnight mine and I could die to have you here

Every time you're on my mind
It just seems to unwind

It's two o'clock your time
Midnight mine and I could die to have you here
It's two o'clock your time
Midnight mine and I could die to have you here

It's two o'clock your time
It's two o'clock your time
It's two o'clock your time

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c92dca7c32326172ed10a46d27d51bb6

2 O'Clock - Lyrics - Steel Train

Title: 2 O'Clock
Artist: Steel Train
Composer(s): Jack Antonoff

Lyric:
It must be hard to be you, it's hard to be me too
But I try to see the flowers in her eyes before she blooms
It's what I fear, I fear that we're insincere
And I'm scared of growing cold

It doesn't mean a thing
That you can't sing on key
You see that I have got a song to hum
That will make us feel alive

And we will be fine and have a drink
If I've gone inside?
You see I'll be here away from fear
In the park they built for us

Two O'clock, to the park
To my world into the dark

Josie smiles and laughs
Me and Scarlett will smoke our hash
A.D. and Amelia sang a song
When love was on the wrong, she lit her cigarette

And Julia's love was clear
As she is drawing all your fears
Beautiful and clear
Scott sing another song

It doesn't mean a thing
That you can't sing on key
You see that I have got a song to hum
That will make us feel alive

We will be fine and do you want a drink
If I've gone inside?
You see now I'll be here away from fear
In the park they built for us

Two O'clock, to the park
To my world into the dark

Josie smiles and laughs
Me and Scarlett will smoke our hash
A.D. and Amelia sang a song
When love was on the wrong, she lit her cigarette

And Julia's love was clear
As she is drawing all your fears
Beautiful and clear
He's singing another song

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a6a8acf4daca0f1edcd5b7af6c1090c8

Clap Your Hands (Part 2) - Lyrics - Imx

Title: Clap Your Hands (Part 2)
Artist: Imx
Composer(s): Jerome Jones, Kelton Kessee, Tony Oliver, Marques Houston

Lyric:
All the ladies wearing strings, clap your hands
And if you wanna get naughty clap your hands
So all the fellas put in work and the ladies make it twurk
If you came to get it crunk, clap your hands

It's eleven o'clock and you're already out
Gotta get your crew together and all go out
There's a party somewhere that goes all night
And VIP is gonna be there so you gotta look tight

There's gonna be sexy Chicanas and Americans
Even some from China and some from Japan
You know the party is jumpin' and the beat is bumpin'
So everybody get your freak on

Ladies feel a rise when you start to grind
G-string in the middle with your big behind
She be switchin' them hips from right to left
We gone dance all night till we run out of breath

All the ladies wearing strings, clap your hands
And if you wanna get naughty clap your hands
So all the fellas put in work and the ladies make it twurk
If you came to get it crunk, clap your hands

It's eleven o'clock and you're already out
Gotta get your crew together and all go out
There's a party somewhere that goes all night
And VIP is gonna be there so you gotta look tight

There's gonna be sexy Chicanas and Americans
Even some from China and some from Japan
You know the party is jumpin' and the beat is bumpin'
So everybody get your freak on

All the ladies wearing strings, clap your hands
And if you wanna get naughty clap your hands
So all the fellas put in work and the ladies make it twurk
If you came to get it crunk, clap your hands

It's eleven o'clock and you're already out
Gotta get your crew together and all go out
There's a party somewhere that goes all night
And VIP is gonna be there so you gotta look tight

There's gonna be sexy Chicanas and Americans
Even some from China and some from Japan
You know the party is jumpin' and the beat is bumpin'
So everybody get your freak on

The place is already packed at a quarter past three
Girlies with they mini skirts and fly bodies
Ladies dancin' so hard, the fellas wantin' more
And it's gettin' kinda nasty on the dance floor

The DJ's spinnin' the cuts on the one's and two's
So many women around and so many dudes
You know the party's jumpin' and the beat is bumpin'
So everybody get your swerve on

The place is already packed at a quarter past three
Girlies with they mini skirts and fly bodies
Ladies dancin' so hard, the fellas wantin' more
And it's gettin' kinda nasty on the dance floor

The DJ's spinnin' the cuts on the one's and two's
So many women around and so many dudes
You know the party's jumpin' and the beat is bumpin'
So everybody get your swerve on

All the ladies wearing strings, clap your hands
And if you wanna get naughty clap your hands
So all the fellas put in work and the ladies make it twurk
If you came to get it crunk, clap your hands

It's eleven o'clock and you're already out
Gotta get your crew together and all go out
There's a party somewhere that goes all night
And VIP is gonna be there so you gotta look tight

There's gonna be sexy Chicanas and Americans
Even some from China and some from Japan
You know the party is jumpin' and the beat is bumpin'
So everybody get your freak on

All the ladies wearing strings, clap your hands
And if you wanna get naughty clap your hands
So all the fellas put in work and the ladies make it twurk
If you came to get it crunk, clap your hands

It's eleven o'clock and you're already out
Gotta get your crew together and all go out
There's a party somewhere that goes all night
And VIP is gonna be there so you gotta look tight

There's gonna be sexy Chicanas and Americans
Even some from China and some from Japan
You know the party is jumpin' and the beat is bumpin'
So everybody get your freak on

The place is already packed at a quarter past three
Girlies with they mini skirts and fly bodies
Ladies dancin' so hard, the fellas wantin' more
And it's gettin' kinda nasty on the dance floor

The DJ's spinnin' the cuts on the one's and two's
So many women around and so many dudes
You know the party's jumpin' and the beat is bumpin'
So everybody get your swerve on

All the ladies wearing strings, clap your hands
And if you wanna get naughty clap your hands
So all the fellas put in work and the ladies make it twurk
If you came to get it crunk, clap your hands

It's eleven o'clock and you're already out
Gotta get your crew together and all go out
There's a party somewhere that goes all night
And VIP is gonna be there so you gotta look tight

There's gonna be sexy Chicanas and Americans
Even some from China and some from Japan
You know the party is jumpin' and the beat is bumpin'
So everybody get your freak on

All the ladies wearing strings, clap your hands
And if you wanna get naughty clap your hands
So all the fellas put in work and the ladies make it twurk
If you came to get it crunk, clap your hands

It's eleven o'clock and you're already out
Gotta get your crew together and all go out
There's a party somewhere that goes all night
And VIP is gonna be there so you gotta look tight

There's gonna be sexy Chicanas and Americans
Even some from China and some from Japan
You know the party is jumpin' and the beat is bumpin'
So everybody get your freak on

All the ladies wearing strings, clap your hands
And if you wanna get naughty clap your hands
So all the fellas put in work and the ladies make it twurk
If you came to get it crunk, clap your hands

It's eleven o'clock and you're already out
Gotta get your crew together and all go out
There's a party somewhere that goes all night
And VIP is gonna be there so you gotta look tight

There's gonna be sexy Chicanas and Americans
Even some from China and some from Japan
You know the party is jumpin' and the beat is bumpin'
So everybody get your freak on

All the ladies wearing strings, clap your hands
And if you wanna get naughty clap your hands
So all the fellas put in work and the ladies make it twurk
If you came to get it crunk, clap your hands

It's eleven o'clock and you're already out
Gotta get your crew together and all go out
There's a party somewhere that goes all night
And VIP is gonna be there so you gotta look tight

There's gonna be sexy Chicanas and Americans
Even some from China and some from Japan
You know the party is jumpin' and the beat is bumpin'
So everybody get your freak on

All the ladies wearing strings, clap your hands
And if you wanna get naughty clap your hands
So all the fellas put in work and the ladies make it twurk
If you came to get it crunk, clap your hands

It's eleven o'clock and you're already out
Gotta get your crew together and all go out
There's a party somewhere that goes all night
And VIP is gonna be there so you gotta look tight

There's gonna be sexy Chicanas and Americans
Even some from China and some from Japan
You know the party is jumpin' and the beat is bumpin'
So everybody get your freak on

IMx, platinum status, say what, say what
If you came to get it crunk clap your hands

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30aae21ef94d26e56e991aecc804d305

Go Cut Creator Go - Lyrics - Bigger & Deffer - Ll Cool J

Title: Go Cut Creator Go
Album: Bigger & Deffer
Artist: Ll Cool J
Composer(s): Bob Ervin, D Pierce, D Simon, James T Smith

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
1, 2, 3 o' clock, 4 o' clock, rock
5, 6, 7 o' clock, 8 o' clock, rock
9, 10, 11 o' clock, 12 o' clock, rock
Gonna rock, rock, rock around the clock

Three years ago in St. Albans, Queens
I was rockin' at a park called One Eighteen
Little kids stood and watched as I rocked the spot
Didn't know, years later I'll be standin' on top

Livin' Farmers Boulevard I was born and base shaw
Stopped the rich and shake hands with the poor
And this is a story about a brother I know
Cut Creator on the fader, now watch him go

Go, go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go

Go, go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go

Way back in the days before I clocked some dough
I used to go to the show and sit in the front row
Hopin' and prayin' one day I'll get on the road
So I had a feeler and a summer and I meet when I'm stoned

Not fearin' a thought, got stung like a horse
Don't make fun of my posse 'cause each man is a boss
When his only damn way to pull a jam out the crate
One time for your mind, check out the guitar break

Go, go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go

Go, go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go

This jam just wasn't enough for Jimmy Hendrix to see
[Incomprehensible] lessons of mixin', take you under his wing
Straight from the heart 'cause it ain't the money that we came here for
Ain't no thoughts in the room, ain't breakin' no roles

And in the Rock 'n' Roll land, a big strivin' plan
Just my posse learn the vocals, what little we had
It's all about us three, Eve, Phil and Jay
He heard Cut Creator cut now check it out to play

Go, go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go

Go, go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go

Rock, rock, y'all, check out the funky cut
It's like travelin' through time to the straight cats strut
Cuts are slicker than Grease, needle sharper than knife
We'll be do doin' the doo for the rest of the lines

Who want a piece of the action? It's time to party, get up
Not a subway bummy singer puttin' change in a cup
Wanna see you boogie, oogie jumpin' up and down
Bitin' your livin' hold your breath until we come to your town

LL Cool J is hard as
Cut Creator cut the record for me

Go, go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go

Go, go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go

LL Cool J is hard as
Go, go, go, go

Go, go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go
Go Cut Creator, go

LL Cool J is hard as hell

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7a15b78115cf5dfde864e31e5e6574d6

It'S Five O' Clock Somewhere - Lyrics - Greatest Hits Volume II - Alan Jackson

Title: It'S Five O' Clock Somewhere
Album: Greatest Hits Volume II
Artist: Alan Jackson
Composer(s): Jim Brown, Donald Edmond Rollins

Lyric:
The sun is hot and that ol' clock is movin' slow and so am I
Workday passes like molasses in wintertime but it's July
Gettin' paid by the hour, older by the minute
My boss just pushed me over the limit
I'd like to call him somethin' but think I'll just call it a day

And pour me somethin' tall and strong
Make it a hurricane before I go insane
It's only half past twelve, but I don't care
It's 5 O'clock somewhere

This lunch break is gonna take all afternoon and half the night
Tomorrow morning I know there'll be here to pay, hey, but that's all right
I ain't had a day off now in over a year
My Jamaican vacation is gonna start right here
If the phone's for me you can tell 'em I've just sailed away

And pour me somethin' tall and strong
Make it a hurricane before I go insane
It's only half past 12, but I don't care
It's 5 O'clock somewhere

I could pay off my tip
Pour myself in a cab and be back to work before 2
At a moment like this, I can't help but wonder
What would Jimmy Buffett do?

I say, pour me somethin' tall and strong
Make it a hurricane before I go insane
It's only half past twelve, but I don't care

Pour me somethin' tall and strong
Make it a hurricane before I go insane
It's only half past twelve, but I don't care
He don't care and I don't care, it's 5 O'clock somewhere

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ac0a3bd4fa4cd185e98e078deb6311ed

It'S 5 O'Clock Somewhere - Lyrics - Alan Jackson

Title: It'S 5 O'Clock Somewhere
Artist: Alan Jackson
Composer(s): Jim Brown, Donald Edmond Rollins

Lyric:
The sun is hot and that ol' clock is movin' slow and so am I
Workday passes like molasses in wintertime but it's July
Gettin' paid by the hour, older by the minute
My boss just pushed me over the limit
I'd like to call him somethin' but think I'll just call it a day

And pour me somethin' tall and strong
Make it a hurricane before I go insane
It's only half past twelve, but I don't care
It's 5 O'clock somewhere

This lunch break is gonna take all afternoon and half the night
Tomorrow morning I know there'll be here to pay, hey, but that's all right
I ain't had a day off now in over a year
My Jamaican vacation is gonna start right here
If the phone's for me you can tell 'em I've just sailed away

And pour me somethin' tall and strong
Make it a hurricane before I go insane
It's only half past 12, but I don't care
It's 5 O'clock somewhere

I could pay off my tip
Pour myself in a cab and be back to work before 2
At a moment like this, I can't help but wonder
What would Jimmy Buffett do?

I say, pour me somethin' tall and strong
Make it a hurricane before I go insane
It's only half past twelve, but I don't care

Pour me somethin' tall and strong
Make it a hurricane before I go insane
It's only half past twelve, but I don't care
He don't care and I don't care, it's 5 O'clock somewhere

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9ed2a2687d78100eae6c40a0aba0c7b0

It'S Five O'Clock Somewhere - Lyrics - Live at Fenway Park - Jimmy Buffett

Title: It'S Five O'Clock Somewhere
Album: Live at Fenway Park
Artist: Jimmy Buffett
Composer(s): Jim Brown, Donald Edmond Rollins

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
The sun is hot and that ol' clock is movin' slow and so am I
Workday passes like molasses in wintertime but it's July
Gettin' paid by the hour, older by the minute
My boss just pushed me over the limit
I'd like to call him somethin' but think I'll just call it a day

And pour me somethin' tall and strong
Make it a hurricane before I go insane
It's only half past twelve, but I don't care
It's 5 O'clock somewhere

This lunch break is gonna take all afternoon and half the night
Tomorrow morning I know there'll be here to pay, hey, but that's all right
I ain't had a day off now in over a year
My Jamaican vacation is gonna start right here
If the phone's for me you can tell 'em I've just sailed away

And pour me somethin' tall and strong
Make it a hurricane before I go insane
It's only half past 12, but I don't care
It's 5 O'clock somewhere

I could pay off my tip
Pour myself in a cab and be back to work before 2
At a moment like this, I can't help but wonder
What would Jimmy Buffett do?

I say, pour me somethin' tall and strong
Make it a hurricane before I go insane
It's only half past twelve, but I don't care

Pour me somethin' tall and strong
Make it a hurricane before I go insane
It's only half past twelve, but I don't care
He don't care and I don't care, it's 5 O'clock somewhere

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f8ab89e889d0af1f3b29ede5e5e22c70

1 2 3 - Lyrics - Lost Boyz

Title: 1 2 3
Artist: Lost Boyz
Composer(s): Raymond Rogers, Vern Smith

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
1, 2, 3 thousand problems
1, 2, 3 thousand problems
1, 2, 3 thousand problems
1, 2, 3 thousand problems

It's a cool summer night
My 4 4's on my waist, gotta half a stick of dynamite
Got some beef with some niggaz across town
Keep my man to the ground, I gotta shut it down

They pull up on my block, I'm in my little brown hooptie
So they guess I want the white rock
They walk close towards my ride
Surprise motherfucker, it's a handful of South side

1, 2, 3 thousand problems
1, 2, 3 thousand problems

I put two to his head, I jumped on the southern state
Then I'm rushin' out to Hempstead
One down and one to go, I heard the next nigga's on
And he's gotten a ball of dough

I kick in the nigga's door
I sat the nigga in the door with my nickel plated fo', fo'
And word up that shit is soft
The way this nigga hit the floor when the freaky got raw

Some bitch tried to burst but I shot her in the back
Aiy yo, Money, where your stash at?
He took me back inside this room
Beside the safe full of G's, he had mad bags of booze

1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems

A lot to do
I call up the underground
let me speak to that nigga Lu
He said, "Taliq, whats up my man?"

I got this nigga locked down wit my joint to his gun
And word up he got a mail press
Aiy yo, Money, what's this address?
1, 2, 45, Boulevard Queens and I tell my man, they try to caravan

Understand, I'm on a mission
And just be nice to pack some extra ammunition
And get some phillies from the store
And park the van on the corner and you're comin' through the side door

1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems

They get robbed, they wanna go
Money, beggin' and repeatin', they don't want trouble
I told that Lu to move the chairs
Aiy yo cheeks, help me take this damn bitch down the stairs
I come back up for the session, money still tied the fuck up confessin'

I blow some smoke into his eyes
"Here nigga, take two more puff before you die"
Yo, I stood up, about faced him and yo lost boys waste him
Aiy yo queens boys waste him and yo south side waste him

1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems

It's 3 o'clock in the morn, shit is on motherfuckers, shit is on
Yeah, yeah, I gotta get this nigga, Shawn
I'm drivin' in a stolen car with no motherfuckin' lights on
I heard, Shawn got crazy ends
But before I do this thing, I go and pick up my best friends

A 40 ounce and let the fields right
I got to see the boy hillside
Understand, now he's in court
I roll all my windows down, pull my shit on the corner

But I still bein' sneaky 'cause I'm freaky, Taliq, I'm freaky, Taliq
But right now I got beef wit this nigga named Shawn
Shit is on, word is bond, money is gone
He's with his bitch, in bed

I pull out my 44, and I don't wanna do his head
'Cause this shit is too easy
Even though he can go in one squeeze, G, it's it's it's crazy
Mr.B's LB's, a people 1, 2, 3, 3, thousand problems

1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems
1, 2, 3, thousand problems

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49d3f6905884f97c95d6ebc5576747c9

Cali To New York - Lyrics - Bridging The Gap - Black Eyed Peas

Title: Cali To New York
Album: Bridging The Gap
Artist: Black Eyed Peas
Composer(s): Kelvin Mercer, David Jolicoeur, William Adams, George Pajon

Lyric:
[Incomprehensible]

As soon as A La stepped off the floor
People started hollerin' for more
Beggin' us to bless 'em with an encore
You know the Peas, they game to do that for sure

No matter what the coast we be on
Pacific or Atlantic, we stay strong
Foreign or domestically, we conquer
All obstacles professionally an' rock on

An' that's exactly how we made it rock, made it rock
We turn this on an' then we make it hot, make it hot
We also known to cause a state of shock, state of shock
We start at 2, then go to 10 o'clock, 10 o'clock

10 o'clock the next day that is, day that is
No matter what city or state that is, state that is
Don't ask no questions, that's the way that is, way that is
Don't ask no questions, that's the way that is [Incomprehensible]

Back, back, back, back, an' forth
From Cali to New York
Back, back, back, back, an' forth
From Cali to New York

Back, back, back, back, an' forth
From Cali to New York
Back, back, back, back, an' forth
From Cali to New York

Introduce Posdonus, y'all, 'nus y'all
Sticky like cous-cous, y'all, cous, y'all
Be the words that I apply, apply
My peeps mass, karma N.Y, N.Y.

Check it out, you see, you other emcees sound like brother emcees
Raised by the same pop an' mother emcees
While I got a lot of brand in my name, I'm recognizable
Leavin' me the cash amount that's quite sizable

Rich in that English that's broke as hell
That's why my niggaz in the hood understand me so well
Its the modern rap type talk, used to walk
All over your ears, you hear the thump, this track pumps like

Well order, some others fell short of the line of finish
You didn't practice harder at the scrimmage
Now my image is the golden cup
My career is dirty compared to yours, it's all washed up

Back, back, back, back, an' forth
From Cali to New York
Back, back, back, back, an' forth
From Cali to New York

Back, back, back, back, an' forth
From Cali to New York
Back, back, back, back, an' forth
From Cali to New York

We, we, we, we regulate an' cross plates, destructs ya
Toss coins to distract it an' we bust ya
Minds blow bigger than tempers out in Russia
Cuss like a sailor, make you shame like Thelya

Stitch a verse tailored to fit, spray paintin' your spit
On the deco we art, spread apart
I raid mo' tracks than flicks in "Beat Street"
With kicks until the sole wear out, never that

We weather that, you light in the ass an' feather that
Heavy like black leather coats, you pleather that
Last dick on the line, we way ahead of that
Squeezin' like Freddie Foxx an' his two glocks

Rocks don't impress niggaz who speak to God
We get jams to make a tuna melt
Held down by the beep, beep, beep, we strictly, new getty
Two fifty up in front of the mic, so what it look like?

Back, back, back, back, an' forth
From Cali to New York
Back, back, back, back, an' forth
From Cali to New York

Back, back, back, back, an' forth
From Cali to New York
Back, back, back, back, an' forth
From Cali to New York

Back, back, back, back, an' forth
From Cali to New York
Back, back, back, back, an' forth
From Cali to New York

Back

[Foreign content]

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a899e24eab65db26f7859182c65fdef9

All Jacked Up - Lyrics - All Jacked Up - Gretchen Wilson

Title: All Jacked Up
Album: All Jacked Up
Artist: Gretchen Wilson
Composer(s): John D. Rich, Vicky Lynn Mcgehee, Gretchen Frances Wilson

Lyric:
Hey yeah!

Well five thirty P.M. rolls around
There's a little old joint outside of town
I only got time for a couple of beers
And a jukebox song ringing in my ear

The next thing you know the bar tender's pouring
Shots are flowing, got me stoned man
All I really know is that I should be going
But I'm soaking up the moment

I'm all jacked up, all jacked up
Don't believe I've ever had this much
One thing I've learned when you get tore up
Time sure flies when you're all jacked up

It was getting mighty close to nine o'clock
?What the hell, I'll have one more shot?
Then I winked at a boy at the end of the bar
Guess I mighta musta gone a little too far

'Cause a big old girl walked outta the blue
10 foot 2 with a bad attitude
Stepped right up and knocked out my tooth
I guess I had it coming, I deserved the due

'Cause I was all jacked up, all jacked up
Don't believe I've ever had this much
One thing I've learned when you get tore up
Don't start no stuff when you're all jacked up

?Don't have to go home, but you can't stay here?
That's what they said when I got my last beer
Oh my God, it's 2 o'clock
I can't find my keys and my truck's locked

So I grabbed a tire tool and I broke my window
Hurt my elbow, got me in though
Two foot later backed into the light pole
All the town folk got a good show

All jacked up
(All jacked up)
All jacked up
(All jacked up)
Don't believe I've ever had this much
One thing I've learned when you get tore up
Don't drive your truck when you're all jacked up

Jacked up
(All jacked up)
(All jacked up)
Woo

One thing I've learned when you get tore up
Don't start no stuff when you're all jacked up
One thing I've learned when you get tore up

Don't drive your car
Don't start no stuff in no bar
Hell I wouldn't even tell anybody where you are
When you're all

Jacked up
(All jacked up)
All jacked up
(All jacked up)
All jacked up
(All jacked up)
All jacked up
(All jacked up)

Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

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269b619773fb2297e8ec12481c2517fe

4 Of 2 - Lyrics - They Might Be Giants

Title: 4 Of 2
Artist: They Might Be Giants
Composer(s): John Flansburgh, John Linnel

Lyric:
Underneath a big clock
At the corner of 5th Avenue and 22nd Street
I stood and waited for a girl I knew
At the spot where we agreed to meet
It was four minutes of two

At four of two, I stood waiting for the girl
I was four minutes early for the date we had planned
I was planning to say I was in love with her
Just as soon as she showed for a two o'clock date
And the clock said four of two

At four of two, I was staring into space
She was not yet late, according to the clock
I was feeling nervous so I kept looking up
At the clock sticking out of the side of the building
And it still said four of two

At four of two, I began to feel tired
And I rubbed my eyes, and again I checked the time
It seemed as if the sky was growing dark
But I felt reassured when I looked at the clock
And it still said four of two

I lay my head down on the sidewalk
So in case she were coming I would have a better view
But no one was there so I stretched out
And closed my eyes for a second or two
It was four minutes of two

At once I awoke to a futuristic world
There were flying cars and gigantic metal bugs
I'd grown a beard, it was long and white
But I knew that the girl would be coming very soon
For though everything had changed, there was still that clock
And it still said four of two

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9c2e84480e8a0733db1748a8c971dc97

Wu-Blood Kin - Lyrics - La The Darkman

Title: Wu-Blood Kin
Artist: La The Darkman
Composer(s): Carlos Daronde Broady, Dennis Coles, Baridi Jackson, Elgin Turner

Lyric:
Young Gods when you shout them guns you kill sons
Can't get into the pen for murder one
I rather be rich, lay back and spark that shit
Killed now son of being hit by a bullet

Yo, the garden of redemption, half of my clan is fenced in
For being lynch men, never listening
Like Sonny Listen on Riker's pisten, 25 was no surprise
He shot 3 niggas left one paralyzed

With bloody palms, them niggas tried and raped his moms
Start shooting at his chest
Shells went to his charms on Saint Nicks, call that branch
The weed spot kid, 2 niggas dead, history, like a pyramid

He mailed the cleaves to an island off the Florida Keys
Bent out, Dunn had a 3 story penthouse
450 C on SouthPeak
Young fakes made the move on the New York street

Extraordinary he flipped his man to see the nigga bury
Check the sub though, heat key Joe Colombo
Got a kid welled out in Florida on the low
Pushin' a Benz-O, sips O-O and mo'

He selled his smoke out the store, Boe kicked in the door
Bran was in the back gamblin' with 2 pounds of green on the table
My Dunn escaped out with guns stable
Of course, he fucked up sniffing white whores

The German's in his laboratory with the task force
Bring it too hot we self cock the full five
First sneaky hit the back caught a shell through his eye
He screamed, the rest of his police team
Got ripped to death like a 88 jeans

Young Gods when you shout them guns you kill sons
Can't get into the pen for murder one
I rather be rich, lay back and spark that shit
Killed now son of being hit by a bullet

Nigga shut the fuck up and drown the keys in the pool
Keep your cool feds be knocking on the door soon
Said they heard about that cat you murdered the boom boom
You shoulda swooped on 'em stayed Wake Water do 'em on him

Jet skied on 'em then flew around corner on 'em
4 o'clock in the morning, I threw the ski mask on 'em
My little man's on the corner when I plant it on 'em
357 slug nosing on 'em
Some bitches that was bugging for him you know 'em

Some bitches problem still be holding
20, 25 years on 'em they growing
Now back with the shit with the twelve burner to be on it
12 O'Clock is on it Darkman on it and niggas don't want it

Young Gods when you shout them guns you kill sons
Can't get into the pen for murder one
I rather be rich, lay back and spark that shit
Killed now son of being hit by a bullet

Young Gods when you shout them guns you kill sons
Can't get into the pen for murder one
I rather be rich, lay back and spark that shit
Killed now son of being hit by a bullet

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197f793f18b52791b9c2a05d223c72fd

10 Million Ways - Lyrics - Mack 10

Title: 10 Million Ways
Artist: Mack 10
Composer(s): Dedrick Rolison, O'Shea Jackson

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars
'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars

'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars
'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars

Tick tock around the clock for the rock ya come see me
Just knock at the door I'll grant your wish like a genie
Strait out to get paid stack the loot that I made
Been slangin' dope out my mammas' house since the 10th grade

Never tried it can't deny it in the tiots was a looter
Used to hang with drive by shooters, stick 'em up for Honda scooters
Never was a scholar make you throw yo hands and holla
Wolla went to Jr. High slangin' joints fo a dollar

Finger waves was the new fad so they spoted a due rags
Niggas got dumped on fo the red or blue rags
Down with the G's so them niggas never serve me
Bellin' through the hood in my honeycomb Jersey

Painter pants cuffed so I fix it on my biscuits
Till my hair get long enough to brade my bitch I'll keep it twisted
It's that nigga runnin' wild punch the pedal to the meadow
And everywhere I go it's a must I keep it ghetto

'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars
Motherfucker crime pays
In 10 millions ways

'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars
Motherfucker crime pays
In 10 millions ways

Choose one, choose one
Choose one, choose one
1 2 3 4, hit it
Choose one, choose one
Choose one, choose one
1 2 3 4, hit it

24/7 on a 211
Fresh out the county I hunt like a bounty
From 10 to midnight make sure my shit tight
Map out the lick right so that I hit right

I strike to stay alive to be exact need a sack
Can't hack this monkey on my back
So I shot it now you plot it I got it
Exotic to erotic money ho's to narcotics

No preachin' knowledge of self or religion
I'm too busy raisin' pit bulls and pigeons
Put the hustle down steady for the summer
I'm ready way tighter got two birds and a rider

But I'm out fo mo nigga can't get enough doe
Place my hands on the fo fo
Arm robbery is my hobby
So I gotta sickum then lickum now who's my next victim

'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars
Motherfucker crime pays
In 10 millions ways

'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars
Motherfucker crime pays
In 10 millions ways

Choose one, choose one
Choose one, choose one
1 2 3 4, hit it
Choose one, choose one
Choose one, choose one
1 2 3 4, hit it

Got the plak in the back straight rag top
Peepin' the scene with the gangsta lean
Super clean in and out make you weak at the knees
I watch fo the thieves on my hunt spoke D's

Stereo type foe life from the streets where the palms trees sway
And the money parlay
Fo block niggas got the hoes like sewed up
Bitches on my nuts every since I first showed up

BG nigga with my though skins hangin'
Tryin' to look like my big homies that was bangin'
Slangin' like 90 goin' north with the cavey
Twistin' through the hood in a 83 caddy

Coupe Deville I packs my big still
'Cause it's sittin' on white ones with the two way tight ones
And as I floss I keeps my Nina Ross
Cocked with the clipin' to catch a nigga slippin'

'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars
Motherfucker crime pays
In 10 millions ways

'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars
Motherfucker crime pays
In 10 millions ways

(Let me [Incomprehensible] the way)
Choose one, choose one
Choose one, choose one
1 2 3 4, hit it
(Let me [Incomprehensible] the way)
Choose one, choose one
Choose one, choose one
1 2 3 4, hit it

'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars
Motherfucker crime pays
In 10 millions ways

'Cause if you fuck with us
We leave scars
Motherfucker crime pays
In 10 millions ways

(Let me [Incomprehensible] the way)
Choose one, choose one
Choose one, choose one
1 2 3 4, hit it
(Let me [Incomprehensible] the way)
Choose one, choose one
Choose one, choose one
1 2 3 4, hit it

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7f86e1381eee785acf0f6fe1c2d131b0

Murder After Midnight - Lyrics - Geto Boys

Title: Murder After Midnight
Artist: Geto Boys
Composer(s): Michael Barnett, Curtis Mayfield, Joe Johnson, Brad Jordan, John Bido

Lyric:
Niggaz busting caps on a Sunday
I'm riding through the park with my white six bloody
Thinking to myself, what the fuck is this?
I grab my motherfuckin' shit, load the clip and then I get

The extra hallow points out the box in the backseat
I can't believe these motherfuckers tried to X me
Once again I'm in the middle of some fuck shit
I busted a window, a dead nigger they left me stuck with

I grabbed my cellular phone and called my nigger Face
Had to beep him, 911 he wasn't in his place
The phone rang I picked it up I heard what's up Black?
'"Some hoe ass niggaz bust a cap and shot my nigga Matt

They killed my nigga now them hoes are after me
Just dump the body and meet me over at the draft 'G'
7 o'clock I dumped the body now I'm changing cars
Getting up with Face it's time to take them hoes to war

Called up Billy to meet us on the south west
Bring a bag of Buddha sinse and an extra vest
And to fit the [unverified] VNG to get this shit right
'Cause there's about to be a murder after midnight

Say what?

3 or 4 minutes to twelve o'clock, rolling in an
Undercover hunting 4 an' [unverified] Adrock
Let's hit the spot and find them hoes that tried to cap ya
Were they Killers yeah, or were they tried to jack ya?

It's hard to tell we lost our boy behind this punk shit
And when we catch him we're gonna chuck him
In the trunk [unverified] Swick
I gives a fuck about the sorry motherfucker

He crossed the family daddy's now I'm a make the nigga suffer
I'm rolling hard got my daddy's Smith and Wesson
6 shots nigga played the 357
So keep your eyes peeled Nigga we got to find them

We got some barrels protecting us
But keep a low pro cause they'll be expecting us
We spotted a 'Z' off at Quarter Lane I'm killing the bitch
I don't know the man

Creped up slow dropped the back window
Yeah now what's up hoe?
Let off a couple of shots but he had posse
The nigga came out the door and like just shot me

It didn't hit me 'cause I duck down
We jumped our ass out the car and turned
That bitch into [unverified] Book Town
I bring my gats to a fist fight and bust a cap
In the bitch and it ain't gotta be at midnight

Eleven forty five I pull up on the set
With some down ass niggaz and a van full of gats
Jumped out fired up my Philly had to bust some shots
Had to let them know Bushwick Bill is on the fucking block

Niggaz start hauling as I heard Big Mike calling
Jumped in the van slammed the door and started hauling
Ass around the corner catch the nigga who would ran
Oki jumped out and went to bust him once again, uh

Making niggaz take cover fast 'cause
We was putting something on they motherfuckin' ass
Yeah, nine millimeter shells, twelve gauge pumps and shit
So nigga don't bother running for your trunk and shit

1 2 3 4 shots from the infra-red left
1 2 3 4 motherfuckers dead and no witnesses in sight
All Bido said is that it happened after midnight

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b0d48a321d26f09ad6643940d7bdd821

This Is Not A Love Song - Lyrics - Understand This Is a Dream - Juliana Theory

Title: This Is Not A Love Song
Album: Understand This Is a Dream
Artist: Juliana Theory
Composer(s): Brett Andrew Detar, Jeremiah David Momper

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
The time is 2:22 and I hope your wish comes true
But you say I'll know before you do
And I hope you're right
Why can we talk this way we always speak

When you're so far away
And I'm sitting right here
It's 10:00 o'clock your time
And it's 1 by mine

And I often wonder
Why you even care
Do you ever wonder, ever wonder why
We met here

The time is 2:22 and I hope my wish comes true
And I think I'll know just when you do
And I hope I do
Maybe this is just what I need

And maybe I'm wrong, maybe I'm wrong
Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I'm wrong
Maybe I'm wrong

And you're so far away
And I'm sitting right here
It's 10:00 o'clock your time
And it's 1 by mine

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b6626a7eeb453d3c320129f7e34a2192

L-L-L-L-Lies - Lyrics - Diana King

Title: L-L-L-L-Lies
Artist: Diana King
Composer(s): Andy Marvel, Arnie Roman, Diana Eugena King

Lyric:
Oh why, oh why, oh why
You tell me l-l-lies, never t-t-think
That I would rea-li-li-lize
Things you say-ay-ay
I will make you fay-ay-ay-ade away
B-b-bye, b-b-bye, bye, bye, goodbye

12 o'clock last night in a club
You an' a girl do de rub-a-dub-dub
Short dress and long curly hair
Don't deny it 'cause I saw you there

Step 1, me did dede when you give her the line
Step 2, me did dede when you looked so sincere
Step 3, me did dede when you hold her close and
Tell her everything dat she won't fear

Why you play those games
Those g-g-games with me
Oh, no, no, no

Oh why, oh why, oh why
You tell me l-l-lies, never t-t-think
That I would rea-li-li-lize
Things you say-ay-ay
I will make you fay-ay-ay-ade away
So b-b-bye, b-b-bye, bye, bye
Goodbye, goodbye

12 o'clock in a the afternoon
You come around with the same old tune
Go on an' on like, say everything fine
When all the time, me know say a lie, you did a lie

Step 1, me did dede when you give her de kiss
Step 2, me two eyes as me witness
Step 3, give me me keys and exit please
Your day is done, so you better move on

Why you play those games
Those g-g-games with me
Oh, no, no, no

Oh why, oh why, oh why
You tell me l-l-lies, never t-t-think
That I would rea-li-li-lize
Things you say-ay-ay
I will make you fay-ay-ay-ade away
So b-b-bye, b-b-bye

Oh why, oh why, oh why
You tell me l-l-lies, never t-t-think
That I would rea-li-li-lize
Things you say-ay-ay
I will make you fay-ay-ay-ade
B-b-bye, b-b-bye, bye, bye

Look here, I don't want to trouble you
No, no, no, I don't think so
I don't want to trouble you

Why you do me that?
Slip out ready lies from the fact's
Tell me, why you do me that
No, no, no

Why you want to play those kind of games with me
Oh

Oh why, oh why, oh why
You tell me l-l-lies, never t-t-think
That I would rea-li-li-lize
Things you say-ay-ay
I will make you fay-ay-ay-ade away
B-b-bye, b-b-bye, b-b-bye, b-b-bye
...

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a2764c18f3066e659bb63d32a5efead5

God Has Smiled On Me - Lyrics - Afroman

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Backfire At The Disco - Lyrics - Girls, Boys and Marsupials - Wombats

Title: Backfire At The Disco
Album: Girls, Boys and Marsupials
Artist: Wombats
Composer(s): Tord Oeverland Knudsen, Daniel Joseph Haggis, Matthew Edward Murphy

Lyric:
It's 8 o'clock and I'm feeling fine
I'm out on a date tonight
In a candle lit restaurant down by the riverside

Everything's going alright, I guess
She took down my number and home address
Everything was going perfectly until

It backfired at the disco
She slapped me at the disco
I did something I'll never forget

It was a chat-up line built not to impress
More a sleazy remark on her whorish dress
My wires crossed like they've never done before

Well, it's 3 o'clock and I'm feeling shite
I'm going home alone tonight
Everything was going perfectly until

It backfired at the disco
She slapped me at the disco
I did something I'll never forget

It backfired at the disco
We were dancing at the disco
I made a move when it was well out of context
1, 2, 3, 4

Well, it backfired at the disco
We were dancing at the disco
Yeah, it backfired at the disco
When you slapped me at the disco

Yeah, it backfired at the disco
We were dancing at the disco
Yeah, it backfired at the disco
When you slapped me at the disco

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56b8a6b498d89c7a4e0585f68c942fd9