Big Time Operator - Lyrics - Big Bad Voodoo Daddy

Title: Big Time Operator
Artist: Big Bad Voodoo Daddy
Composer(s): Scotty Morris

Lyric:
I like to sneak a drink and roll my smoke
You see I like my collars pressed
I wear big ol hats and fancy ties
As and I hang late with my friends

I can take it on the chin with a Cheshire grin
I'm a sinner V.I.P
You know I like mixed drinks I likes what I thinks
I think you know just what I mean

You know that heroes and legends are one and the same
It's a how you play the game
You see, I'm no fool I'm from the old school
Its the fire from the flame

I like a big ol car, and fine cigars
You know I'll pick your pockets clean
I'm a snake-eye rollin', big league bowlin'
And I clean up on the green

I got the Jack, the Ace, the King and Queen
You know I like my women mean
'Cause I'm a big time operatin'
Never ever hesitatin' sinner V.I.P

'Cause I'm a big time operatin'
Never ever hesitatin' sinner V.I.P

I like to sneak a drink and roll my smoke
You see I like my collars pressed
I wear big ol hats and fancy ties
As and I hang late with my friends

I got the Jack, the Ace, the King and Queen
You know I like my women mean
'Cause I'm a big time operatin'
Never ever hesitatin' sinner V.I.P

'Cause I'm a big time operatin'
Never ever hesitatin' sinner V.I.P
'Cause I'm a big time operatin'
Never ever hesitatin' sinner V.I.P

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Telephone Bill - Lyrics - Johnny Guitar Watson

Title: Telephone Bill
Artist: Johnny Guitar Watson
Composer(s): Johnny Watson

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Lyric:
Everybody rappin' and talkin' 'bout nothin'
And makin' 'em sexy sounds
And in the meantime and in between time
I'm down here on the ground

But now I'm not complainin' about what's pertainin'
To my present status quo
About thing's gettin' hard, ooh, my God, inflation
I know you know, listen

Now just yesterday I'd like to say
Before I got out of my bed
Now I was already tired on the for real side
And a few bills I forgot to pay

Now my phone rang and a cute little girl
Began to sing this tune
She said, ?Mr. Watson, I'd like to inform you
Your phone is turned off at noon?

Now that came to me as no surprise
'Cause last week I went up the coast
I met a cute little girl that was all the way live
And callin' her I thought was the most

She had them great big eyes and 'em great big legs
And it gave my body a chill
So you know, I never thought about the cost
And no, a telephone bill

So I just kept on rappin'
My hands got clappin' havin' myself a ball
You know, it slipped my mind
It was at the same time I was makin' a long distance call

So that day before yesterday I ran into the problem
Just makin' them calls and hollers
And I picked up the envelope that contained my bill
Guess what, 500 dollars

Now the next time I call this big leg cutie
To make myself a date
I'm gonna call that girl way after nine
And get me the evenin' rate

Now, I ain't gonna tell her
I ain't tellin' her nothin' to blow my frown thing
But it'll be way, way, way after nine
When she'll hear her telephone ring

Ring it, ring it, ring that telephone
Ring it, ring it, ring that telephone
I said, ring it, ring it, have yourself a thrill
And when you ring it, ring it, watch your phone bill

Now I paid the bill and the deal was real
And my talkin' resumed and all
I said, "From now on, pal
I must stick to my local calls"

Now a few weeks passed and I would just guess
You know what I'm talkin' about?
I say, when I got the bill the figure was so low
I was impressed, knock me out

Now shortly that after somethin' stopped my laughter
I was outside diggin' in the yard
Heard a ding and I heard a dong
It was the phone, ooh, my Lord

Say I dropped my shovel and my body
I leveled and I made me a 100-yard dash
And then I straightened up my clothes
And I blew my nose through a Kleenex in the trash

I composed myself and I picked up the phone
And I was still kinda huffin' and puffin'
And the operator said, ?Would you accept a collect call??
I said, ?Ain't that nothin'??

But I was just cool 'cause you know
I didn't wanna be no fool and see I didn't know who it was
It was the big legged cutie from up off the coast
Tellin' me that she was in love

Now for three whole minutes I planned to talk
Not now you all know I ain't never lied
But in love or not, I planned to stop
When the third minute arrived

I went three minutes past it occurred to me
Ooh, she might talk a week
I said, ?I'm sorry, baby, look, I gotta go?
She was a telephone freak

She said, '?Oh Johnny, talk a little longer
With you I'm so in love"
I said, '?I know where you're comin' from
I can dig it, I gotta go rehearse at the club?

She said, ?Well, if you gotta go rehearse I'll call you later
There's some I gotta tell you what's on my mind?
I said, ?Well, yeah okay, baby
You can call me back anytime after nine?

Ring it, ring it, ring that telephone
Why don't you ring it? Ring it, ring that telephone
And when you ring it, ring it, have yourself a thrill
And ring it, ring it and watch your phone bill

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Independent Trucker - Lyrics - Greatest Hits Collection 2 - Brooks &Amp; Dunn

Title: Independent Trucker
Album: Greatest Hits Collection 2
Artist: Brooks &Amp; Dunn
Composer(s): Jeffrey Steele, Chris Stapleton

Lyric:
Well my daddy was a world class trucker
Took my momma on a four day trip
And she swears to me
That I was conceived at a big rig dealership

The story goes on the day I was born
He hit the road and he never looked back
Well my daddy went and named me a big mistake
But my momma always called me Mack

And I'm a haulin', chug-a-luggin' through the rain and snow
Yeah I'm a haulin', I put the hammer down and let it roll
My babies callin', sayin' baby when you gonna come home
Well I'm an independent trucker, a mother lovin', overloaded owner operator
Just a tearin' up a two lane road

I got the chrome girls on my mud flaps
I keep a cup o' coffee on the dashboard
Got a custom airbrush desert scene and my name painted on the door
Got a cross of Jesus all along the grille, lights up like a Christmas tree
Any highway, any time of day, thats where I wanna be

Well I'm a haulin', only 700 miles to go
Yeah I'm a haulin', I put the hammer down and let it roll, song
My babies callin', sayin' baby when you gonna come home
Well I'm an independent trucker, a mother lovin', overloaded owner operator
Just a tearin' up a two lane road

Well I'm a haulin', only 700 miles to go
Yeah I'm a haulin', put the hammer down and let it roll
My babies callin', sayin' baby when you gonna come home
Well I'm an independent trucker, a mother lovin', overloaded owner operator
Just a tearin' up a two lane road

Yeah I'm an independent trucker, a mother lovin', overloaded owner operator
Just a tearin' up a two lane road
Oh, oh
Yeah

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Get Down - Lyrics - Prince Of Darkness - Big Daddy Kane

Title: Get Down
Album: Prince Of Darkness
Artist: Big Daddy Kane
Composer(s): Robert Bell, Ronald Bell, Donald Boyce, George Brown, Antonio Hardy, Robert Spike Mickens, Claydes Smith, Dennis Thomas, Richard Westfield

Lyric:
It ain't hard to tell
The flow of the Kane is movin' 'em real well
I build and excel and plus I rap like hell
Lyrics generate, break through and penetrate

Connect like an interstate, now let me demonstrate
I grab the microphone and put the dap in quick
You start to tappin 'and snappin' and clappin'
Then rappin'll happen

And then I display, poetry, the right way
And rock the Gladys Knight to the next Morris Day
I get sexy like Marvin Gaye
And other times, I might wanna hit 'em hard and say

Somethin' exquisite and clever like a wizard
Hit 'em like a blizzard if you missed it
Turn to your friend and say, "What is it?"
Or what was it, because it, was too fast for you to bust it
So pay attention to how the 'Smooth Operator' does it

Just acknowledge the sound
Get on the good foot, uhh and get down

Look, the thought of competition, I don't have the faintest
'Cause if I'm correct, I kicked them all in the anus
So I don't care if you step to me in three flocks
The men that's all pumped up like Reeboks

'Cause I bring down the swelling, just like alcohol
Makin' 'em all fall like the Berlin Wall
Then I apply pain just like a migraine
Pssssh, man, don't even try Kane
A lyrical catastrophe, a disaster see, nobody gets on after me

Crushin' MC's is how I get my joy
So when one tries to battle I'm like, hoo, boy
Class in session as I give the lesson
To prove to another rapper that I rule in his profession
And it's nothin' new, that the Kane is your ruler

'Cause back in the days I used to call you Sundullah
Now it's a new time period, rappers are still fearin' it
And the crowd is still cheerin'
With the new Black Ceaser that came to town
With one purpose, to make you get down

I start to flow, slow, and then, ohh, no
I gotta pick up the pace and go
Go relatin' and statin' what I'm creatin' to straighten MC's
That I'm debatin' terminatin' as the Kane keeps them evadin'

So step over, 'cause ain't no leftover
Remains from the Kane I drained the last brain
Speak like Oprah, attack like a cobra
Turn your whole year into a 'Red October'

Lyrics are sweet like struddel, at the same time brutal
Your rhymes remind me of the noodle in, umm
Chop suey, soft and chewy
My rhymes are kickin' like Bruce, you're just 'Hong Kong Phooey'

So 'Enter the Dragon' as I start to raggin'
All the competition that's on the bandwagon
I take the groove around around around around around
Around, so get down

Yo, get out your seat and jump to this
Throw your hands in the air and pump your fists
The name of the jam is get down so let me see you do it
And show some unity in music

We gotta show our young ones the right way
To avoid crucial poison and the price they might pay
So I keep on teachin' the children to follow the
Power, equality, Allah C equality, peace

Mister Cee, you gotta get down and, uh
Scoob Lover, you gotta get down and, uh
Scrap Lover, you gotta get down and, uh
Big Fahl, you gotta get down and my man
Jay-Z, you gotta get down and
Positive K, you gotta get down and

To my man Music Mike, you gotta get down
And to my man Larry, you gotta get down
And to my man Ant Live, you gotta get down
And to my man Big Chuck, you gotta get down
And I can't forget Rog, you gotta get down
And to my man Danny, you gotta get down

And to my main man Sauce, you gotta get down
And to my man Bobby V, you gotta get down
And to my cousin '95, you gotta get down
To my brother the Lil' Daddy, you gotta get down
And to my man Tyrone, you gotta get down
And if I didn't say your name, you can still get down

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Brother, Brother - Lyrics - Big Daddy Kane

Title: Brother, Brother
Artist: Big Daddy Kane
Composer(s): Antonio M Hardy, Smead Hudman, Austin Johnson

Lyric:
Mmm, hmm, right, right
What we have here is collaboration
Of the Big Daddy Kane and the Little Daddy Shane
We're gonna send this out to all the brothers

And sisters, around the universe
It's a tune, a tune about unity
And peace amongst each other
And we're gonna have some fun, peep this

The B to the I to the G to the D
To the A to the D to the D to the Y
To the K to the A to the N to the E
The Smooth Operator's in the place to be

The L to the I to the L to the D
To the A to the D to the D to the Y
To the S to the H to the A N E
The Little Daddy Shane for the world to see

Ricky-ticky-tempo, no surrembo
Italian men, call their girls a bimbo
Puerto Rican men call their girls muchacha
Ask me how I know, cause I'm a girl watcher

Now I must admit that I'm a sensitive guy
?Cause I cried on Cooley High when Cochise died
But then again at times I may be a mean fellow
?Cause I didn't give a damn about the dog Old Yeller

But I love my brother
(And I love him back)
I wish people of the world could be like that
So shake shake y'all
(Shake y'all)
Shake y'all
(Shake y'all)
And bust the move we make y?all

Brother, brother, help each other
Brother, brother, help each other

I'm not Don Pardo, or Guy Lombardo
I Love Lucy, but I'm not Ricky Ricardo
I'm just a teen titan that does some mean fightin?
Against any sucker MC that's seen bitin?

I been through Different World's, gave them all a try
Kadeem is my man, but Jasmine's not my Guy
I wonder if the Kane ever Dawns on Lewis
It's a sin to be bad, but somebody's gotta do it

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust
I can make a nun feel the need for lust, true
I can make a new car start to rust
And outrun the dog on the Greyhound bus

For an MC to try to battle me freestylin?
His mind must be somewhere in Fantasy Island
But I guarantee that by the time I'm through
I make him feel about the size of the midget Tattoo

?Cause I love my brother
(And I love him back)
And more people of the world should be like that
So swing swing y'all
(Swing y'all)
Swing y'all
(Swing y'all)
Check out how we do our thing y?all

Brother, brother, help each other
Brother, brother, help each other

Rhymes that I write generate much juice
Not like Dr. Seuss or even Mother Goose
They said I was a child, but then I hit em hard
Yeah it's good to send a boy to do a man's job

Well, I'm the Biggest Daddy of the macks and dons
I keep a fleet of women, probably one of them's your moms
A voice so choice that my lips should be bronzed
You got ta give me thumbs up just like the Fonz

Well, I'm a new jack from the new school, too cool
But some of the times I get bizarre word?
And grab the microphone and catch a spell from Melle Mel
And start to yell

While I'm up on stage I feel that it's my duty
To do somethin? fly, to make you shake your booty
Because I add the flavor just like an onion
The type of guy that grows on ya, just like a bunion

But I love you Shane
(And I love you Kane)
That's somethin? that the whole world needs to gain
So love love y'all
(Love y'all)
Love y'all
(Love y'all)
Just a little bit of love y?all, peace

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Too Cool For School - Lyrics - Fountains Of Wayne

Title: Too Cool For School
Artist: Fountains Of Wayne
Composer(s): Adam L. Schlesinger, Chris Collingwood

Lyric:
He walks alone under the big city lights
He always knows just when the time is right
He never shows what he's thinking
He keeps it inside because he's too cool for school

He comes alive when the sun goes down
He gets it right you know he's always down
He's got one eye open and his ear to the ground
Man he's too cool for school

He's an operator, he's a real player
And if you mess with him, you know you'll never win
He's an instigator, enemy eliminator
And when he knocks you better, you better let him in

He's got his own way of getting things done
He's always looking out for number one
Don't try to beat him 'cause he's already won
Man he's too cool for school

He's an operator, he's a real player
And if you mess with him, you know you'll never win
He's an instigator, enemy eliminator
And when he knocks you better, you better let him in

He walks alone under the big city lights
He always knows just when the time is right
He never shows what he's thinking
He keeps it inside

Because he's too cool for school
Because he's too cool for school
Because he's too cool for school

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48b1216092249eac61b53f435137ad4b

Golden Ticket - Lyrics - I'm Like a Virgin Losing a Child - Manchester Orchestra

Title: Golden Ticket
Album: I'm Like a Virgin Losing a Child
Artist: Manchester Orchestra
Composer(s): Andy Hull

Lyric:
Please take care of yourself was the last thing I said
Right before that operator made us disconnected

Please take care of yourself was the last thing I said
Right before that operator made us disconnected
If you can hear me right now, I've got a formula vow
That swears I'll do my best to figure out this situation

First of all I'll explain why I caused all that water
But never fixed that leaking pipe that floods us to the sealing
An empty shot glass doesn't lie so I fulfilled my appetite
And crossed my fingers that the good Lord
Will take care of you and I again

So now that I found it, I'll tie the ropes around it
And make sure that the bottle never bothers us again
Well, I promise this time really, yeah
I'm cleaning up sincerely, yeah
And I'll make sure that the devil never bothers you again

How I wish that you had sold me on all of those big goals
Of being a good father not a careless liar
Well, am I really that old, ignorant or to slow
To realize I have lost my golden ticket back home?

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063b2875c181590f4a86a0e7c61e327f

Lyrical Gymnastics - Lyrics - Daddy's Home - Big Daddy Kane

Title: Lyrical Gymnastics
Album: Daddy's Home
Artist: Big Daddy Kane
Composer(s): Antonio Hardy, Barry White, Patrick Harvey, Smead Hudman

Lyric:
Do you know, what you're goin through?
Do you like this style of rap that I'm showin you?
The way I flow for you, do you know?

Yeah baby c'mon
Ah baby baby c'mon, check the rhyme to the song
Uhh, aw yeah baby c'mon
Ah baby baby c'mon, and check the rhyme to the song

One double nine to the four, gotta keep em on the floor
and put some real lyrics back in the hardcore
What I'm used to hearin', I can't believe it's gone
But now just like a grill inside Burger King, the beef is on

When I come, rappers begin to speak in degrees
I even make sisters with voices weak in the knees
So run for your lives, Kane with the pen
Is like Freddy with the glove full of knives

Who wanna test these skills, come see how it feels
I pull you one verse, if that don't kill I got refills
You can't do me none, kid you gets nothin'
If my rhymes was in braille, you still couldn't touch 'em

Man, I'm a bad cat, my style of rap is mad fat
And you know, sometimes it's so sad that
Rappers today be comin' as the gangster rhyme type
And be so soft, they wouldn't even kill time right

Here's the news, you lettin' the word hardcore be misused
You ain't never paid dues
Be for real, you ain't tough yet
The razor bumps on your throat is the only thing makin' you a ruffneck

Your whole image is a damn sham
I'm glad in this business I didn't forget who I am
I always remain the Kane inside a battle
Never to walk in anyone's shadow

I do my own thing, I do a thing of my own
And with my competition I let it be known
that battles I don't lose none, boy you get bruised son
Six million ways to die, choose one

My rap style is like a poisonous venom
We might as well be havin' sex, the way that I put it in em
And do I crush MC's, are you kiddin' me?
If rappers were grapes, I'd have a whole wine distillery

So, I bring it to your face, with the bass, then I blow
A rapper off the map, with the rap, when I flow
Then hit you with the skill that is ill, and I know
That all of this is good to go, 'cause yo

That's the way the flavor always come
The rhymes they flow accordin' to the drum
The Brooklyn style 'cause that is where I'm from
You want the funk so let me give you some

I flip on the flow on the track, just like that
Amazin' the people the style of the rapppin', is quite fat
I'm lickin' the lyrics and shootin' the gat, on the mic black
And this is for all of the rappers that like, and they bite that

The Smooth Operator is mellow with the saxophone
Settin' the tone that make the girls relax and moan
'Cause all the ladies I'm givin' 'em lots of love
Hittin' more skins than a boxing glove, good God

The girls treat me like the drummer and give me some
From tall to short to thick, even the slimmie ones
Watch out Goldie! Gimme a forty ounce of Olde E
And none of you players can control me

You get the chance to see a true mack man
With skills to pay the bills, to make more stacks than
Taller than anybody else's stacks it seem
'Cause the Kane get more paper than a fax machine

The unforgettable, rhymes are too poetical
Keep rappers in order more than letters put alphabetical
And I hope the record consumers don't believe the magazine rumors
'Cause Kane is makin' a comeback, like Puma's

I get rough G, and set it on your whole damn company
And Bogart, like my name was Humphrey
When I get through, there'll be no more of them
As many rappers I burnt, I should open a crematorium

I make mad MC's give me my P's
If you try to disrespect, kid you can get these
N-U-T's, like the U-N-V's
I leave you down on your knees, down on your knees

Razor sharp, many ways of art
Source rings the chart, people praise the God
For kickin' the flows so fantastic and this one here
We're callin' it Lyrical Gymnastics

Uhh, so baby baby c'mon
Aw yeah baby c'mon, and check the rhymes to the song
Uhh, ah baby baby c'mon
Suki suki c'mon, and I'm gone

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