Bored Out Of My Mind - Lyrics - Lipstick Traces: A Secret History Of Manic Street Preachers - Manic Street Preachers

Title: Bored Out Of My Mind
Album: Lipstick Traces: A Secret History Of Manic Street Preachers
Artist: Manic Street Preachers
Composer(s): James Dean Bradfield, Richard James Edwards, Sean Anthony Moore, Nicholas Allen Jones

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Lyric:
I'm, I'm feeling too awake, I'm, I'm tired of what I see
Everybody's dreaming, running for the scream
The media's stinking, drunk, nothing is at stake

All the faces I love, their skin as soft as leprosy
Words choked on my lies, repeating love till they cry
All the faces I love, their skin as soft as leprosy
I'm bored out of my mind, I'm too stoned lazy to see

The sun, the sun is leaving me, I can't see it anymore
I tried everything to get along with you
The nights too lonesome when the heat doesn't care

All the faces I love, their skin as soft as leprosy
Words choked on my lies, repeating love till they cry
All the faces I love, their skin as soft as leprosy
I'm bored out of my mind, I'm too stoned lazy to see

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You Must Be Out Of Your Fuckin' Mind - Lyrics - Fat Joe

Title: You Must Be Out Of Your Fuckin' Mind
Artist: Fat Joe
Composer(s): Joseph Cartagena, Joseph Kirkland

Lyric:
"You must be out your fucking mind, man"
"I'm gonna kick your ass"
"Hey you, come here"

"You must be out your fucking mind, man"
"I'm gonna kick your ass"
"Hey you, come here"

"You must be out your fucking mind, man"
"I'm gonna kick your ass"
"Hey you, come here"

Aw shit, it's time to get
(Dum dum)
If you took what you got, lick a shot
(Pump pump)
When the dough is low, we go
(Stick up, stick up)
You get knocked on the block, we say
(Big up, big up)

Check the misfit, time to rip shit
Time to get with the nitwit lyrical lunatic
In the street I stay strong 'cause I'm armed with a nine
What's up nig? You must be out of your fucking mind

I'm much more than you expect, kid
To identify your ass they'll have to use your fucking dental records
So step up, come come, don't be bashful
I got a steel toe and you can get an assful

'Cause if it's me you think you're better than
You'll need a sniffly, sneezy, coughing
Stuffy head, get your ass with medicine
You can feel, shit is real, my mind can set me free
So I can continue my MC killing spree

The police, they try to keep me in the clink, yo
I got 'em ducking and bucking, so I don't think so
I bust your whole shit if you're not kind
Stomping comp? You must be out of your fucking mind

"You must be out your fucking mind, man"
"I'm a kick your ass"
"Hey you, come here"

"You must be out your fucking mind, man"
"I'm a kick your ass"
"Hey you, come here"

Chitty chitty bang bang, I'm coming like a chain gang
From outta sang sang to make your motherfucking brains hang
Try to diss this, then you'll enlist for the stiffs
Snatch your bitch up at Crystal and then I fuck her with a pistol

A nigga with heart, walk through a park in the dark
Fuck the drug marks stomping me, I'll play your fucking heart, so be smart
Cut all that bullshit and clown, I'll be the only nigga laying down
When everybody else is sitting

So who's the next man to hit? I slip in a banana clip
And I hit, come and get your bandanna split
Shit, fuck, bitch who's the snitch?
You may be down with Mikey and Ikey, but you're laying in a fucking ditch

With motherfucking maggots with the rest of them faggots
'Cause your license to kill was from Tagget's
I warned a brother of another brother's glock
And I said "What's up, duck?" And I had my motherfucking gun cocked

So be a sport, another lesson drug
Holding down the fort and a stupid-ass nigga got caught
So he made prime time cause I had the nine
Yeah, you must be out of your fucking mind

"You must be out your fucking mind, man"
"I'm a kick your ass"
"Hey you, come here"

"You must be out your fucking mind, man"
"I'm a kick your ass"
"Hey you, come here"

Sucker back up, a real motherfucker's on stage
I shoot the gift like a motherfucking 12 gauge
Niggas know I'm versatile
No question I'm buckwild, I'm killing rappers executioner style

Hanging motherfuckers with a mic cord
I'm a rap lord, suckers always get me bored
Saying that they that and this
Ayo they get me pissed, 'cause motherfuckers ain't jack shit

I'm here to represent the Boogie Down
Making niggas leave town before sundown
And if you don't listen, G
I'll stick a knife up your ass like "American me"

I'm serving motherfuckers like Wimbledon
I shock a crowd like a bottle of insulin
And niggas always get me vexed
I'm tired of motherfuckers trying to sound like Das Efx

You'd better hold your own, child
'Cause I'm laying suckers like rugs and tiles
This is the bigger nigger with the mad lines
You step to me? You must be out of your fucking mind!

"You must be out your fucking mind, man"
"I'm a kick your ass"
"Hey you, come here"

"You must be out your fucking mind, man"
"I'm a kick your ass"
"Hey you, come here"

Yeah, now you motherfuckers know the flav, East Coast style
Fat Joe, G. Rap, and Apache
You step to us, you must be out of your fucking mind

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Over And Over - Lyrics - Pat Green

Title: Over And Over
Artist: Pat Green
Composer(s): Pat Green, Fred Le Blanc

Lyric:
I feel like getting out of here
I feel like giving up
I give my best and you punch and you kick me
Then you tell me that I ain't enough

Everybody know what's gonna happen
Everybody know what's in store
I give you everything that you ask me
Now I just can't give it anymore

Over and over and over and over
What kind of spell have you got me under
Over and over and over and over
What kind of spell have you got me

Under the gun, out of my mind
I lost my brain and that's just fine
I'm just a fool, no, it ain't cool
But I am still in love with you

I don't know why I'm getting so angry
And I just know that I'm getting bored
After all the crap that's happened
I hear my heart break and it's knocking at the door

Over and over and over and over
What kind of spell have you got me under
Over and over and over and over
What kind of spell have you got me

Under the gun, out of my mind
I lost my brain and that's just fine
I'm just a fool, no it ain't cool
But I am still in love with you

Open your eyes, hey, lighten up
You look like nails but you ain't that tough
You got what you want 'cause I'm still here
No I ain't going anywhere

Under the gun out of my mind
I lost my brain and that's just fine
I'm just a fool, no it ain't cool
But I am still in love with you

Over and over and over and over
What kind of spell have you got me under
Over and over and over and over
What kind of spell have you got me

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9655b30f71b3a21d21d52859f2874260

Worst Thing That Can Happen - Lyrics - Teen Dance Ordinance - A

Title: Worst Thing That Can Happen
Album: Teen Dance Ordinance
Artist: A
Composer(s): Mark Chapman, Daniel Philip Carter, Adam Perry, Giles Perry, Jason Keith Perry

Lyric:
Standing with a headache
I try to fight but I can't deny the pain
Reservations what I got
From the bottom to the top

On the bottle, 5 times a day
Standing with the top line
You know it's gonna hurt when I close my eyes
And I'm shaking and I feel so alive

Stand up and face it
Get up, don't waste it
What's the worst thing that could happen?
What's the worst thing that could happen?

You're bored out of ya mind
Fighting all the time
What's the worst thing that could happen?
What's the worst thing that could happen to you?

When there's nothing on
You find yourself caught in the spotlight
You try to fight but you can't delight the phase
On your knees is what you're not

Keeping what you got
Don't try to hide your face, caught in a flashlight
You know it's gonna hurt when I close my eyes
And I'm breaking and I feel so alive

Stand up and face it
Get up, don't waste it
What's the worst thing that could happen?
What's the worst thing that could happen?

You're bored out of ya mind
Fighting all the time
What's the worst thing that could happen?
What's the worst thing that could happen to you?

When there's nothing right
When there's nothing right

Stand up and face it
Get up, don't waste it
What's the worst thing that could happen?
What's the worst thing that could happen?

You're bored out of ya mind
Fighting all the time
What's the worst thing that could happen?
What's the worst thing that could happen?

You're bored out of ya mind
Fighting all the time
What's the worst thing that could happen?
What's the worst thing that could happen?

You're bored out of ya mind
Fighting all the time
What's the worst thing that could happen?
What's the worst thing that could happen to you?

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45e8b40318494462217958ffde5989f2

Cum On Everybody - Lyrics - Slim Shady LP - Eminem

Title: Cum On Everybody
Album: Slim Shady LP
Artist: Eminem
Composer(s): Mark Bass, Marshall Mathers, Jeff Bass

Lyric:
Yo mic check
Testing one, two um twelve
This is my dancing room can you hear me?

My favorite color is red
Like the blood shed
From Kurt Cobain's head
When he shot himself dead

Women all grabbin' at my shishkabob
Bought Lauryn Hill's tape so her kids could starve
You thought I was livid now I'm even more so
Shit I got full blown AID's and a sore throat

I got a wardrobe with an orange robe
I'm in the fourth row signin' autographs until my show
I just remembered that I'm absent minded
Wait, I mean I've lost my mind I can't find it

I'm freestylin' every verse that I spit
'Coz I don't even remember the words to my shit
I told the doc I need a change in sickness
I gave a girl herpes in exchange for syphalis

Put my L.P on your Christmas gift list
You wanna get high, here bitch just sniff this

Come on everybody, get down tonight
Come on everybody, get down tonight
Come on everybody, get down tonight
Come on everybody, get down tonight

Come on everybody, get down tonight
Come on everybody, get down tonight
Come on everybody, get down tonight
Come on everybody, get down tonight

I tried suicide once and I'll try it again
That's why I write songs where I die at the end
'Coz I don't give a fuck, like my middle finger was stuck
And I was waving it at everybody screamin' "I suck"

I go on stage in front of a sellout crowd
And yell out loud "All of y'all get the hell out now"
Fuck rap, I'm givin' it up y'all, I'm sorry
But Eminem this is your record release party

I'm bored out of my gord
So I took a hammer and nailed my foot
To the floorboard of my Ford

I guess I'm just a sick, sick bastard
Just one sandwich short of a picnic basket
One Excederin tablet short of a full medicine cabinet
I feel like my head has been shredded like lettuce and cabbage

And if you ever see a video for this shit
I'll probably be dressed up like a mummy with my wrists slit

Come on everybody, get down tonight
Come on everybody, get down tonight
Come on everybody, get down tonight
Come on everybody, get down tonight

Come on everybody, get down tonight
Come on everybody, get down tonight
Come on everybody, get down tonight
Come on everybody, get down tonight

Got bitches on my jock out in East Detroit
'Coz they think that I'm a motherfuckin' Beastie Boy
So I told 'em I was Mike D, it was like
G I don't know he might be

I told 'em, "Meet me at Kid Rock's next concert
And I'll be standin' by the Loch Ness monster"
I'm peace out then I jetted to the weed house
Smoked out till I started bustin' freestyles

Broke out then I dipped quick back to the crib, put on lipstick
Crushed up the Tylenol then ate it with a dipstick
Made a couple of crank calls collect
"Ken Kaniff from Connecticut, can you accept?"

I wanna make songs all the fellas dub
And murder every rich rapper that I'm jealous of
So just remember when I bomb your set
Yo, I only cuss to make your mom upset

Come on everybody, get down tonight
Come on everybody, get down tonight
Come on everybody, get down tonight
Come on everybody, get down tonight

Come on everybody, get down tonight
Come on everybody, get down tonight
Come on everybody, get down tonight
Come on everybody, get down tonight

Come on everybody, get down tonight
Come on everybody, get down tonight
Come on everybody, get down tonight
Come on everybody, get down tonight
...

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532d83454e009f698d61957fe461331e

Fortune Teller - Lyrics - Nu-Clear Sounds - Ash

Title: Fortune Teller
Album: Nu-Clear Sounds
Artist: Ash
Composer(s): Tim Wheeler

Lyric:
Too much information in my face
Don't know anybody, feel so out of place
I'm bored with this century and I'm sick of it all
Here I am standing on the killing floor

Got a fever burning and I don't feel right
Yeah, my head's rushing right out of my mind
Went to see the doctor and he gave me pills
Yeah, they numbed my pain but didn't cure my ills

What's in the future 'cos I can't see
Fortune teller got me down on my knees

Go and see the fortune teller
Will she tell me all she knows
Go and see the fortune teller, baby
Find out how it goes

I found myself living in a concrete hell
Found myself thinking don't need no-one else
I'm feeling damaged, yeah, I feel deranged
I need something to counter-act the pain

Can't see the stars but could they give me a sign
Yeah, I need to know now, don't tell me no lies
I've been completely going out of my mind
Yeah, I feel beat up just like Jesus Christ

What's in the future 'cos I can't see
Fortune teller got me down on my knees

Go and see the fortune teller
Will she tell me all she knows
Go and see the fortune teller, baby
Find out how it goes

We all live beneath a dying sun
Used to believe in something, that's been shot to fuck
I'm bored with this century, yeah, I'm sick of it all
Here I am standing on the killing floor

What's in the future 'cos I can't see
Fortune teller got me down on my knees

Go and see the fortune teller
Will she tell me all she knows
Go and see the fortune teller, baby
Find out how it goes

Yeah, so when am I gonna get better
Will I find out in my time?
Go and see the fortune teller, baby
Find out how it goes

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22c9e162a1b22412ff167c1cbdffffe7

Plastic World - Lyrics - Sex Style - Kool Keith

Title: Plastic World
Album: Sex Style
Artist: Kool Keith
Composer(s): Kurt Matlin, Keith Thornton

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Lyric:
Yeah, Kool Keith should keep it real
He should rap about space and Mars
Yo, I'm tired of looking at everybody, same boots, skully hats in
90 degree weather, looking to get into clubs for free
I'm not smoking blunts, or looking for jazz records at the Roosevelt

I left New York, the city itself was stress depression
High boots and urban beats, that wasn't my direction
Producers filtering join in with R&B
A million rappers, some clones trying to sound like me

Biting my space styles, biting my horror core
All I saw was Kool Keiths on my thaw
Record companies had G'd off all my royalties
Watching vinyl spin, local groups' wack MC's

Some try to rap with that perpetrate mobster crap
Karl Kani jeans, fat stomachs in the limousines
Mixtapes by wack DJ's adds doo doo play
I'm on the turnpike, the city drifting down the highway

Like a mirage, the style there is all illusion
On videos out of town, peoples buy confusion
Rolling high with cash pulled over down my eye
Since I've been out, y'all can't see

Is the world made of plastic?
Is the city buried in dreams? Yeah
Is the world made of plastic?
'Cause that's the way is seems, ow
Is the world made of plastic?
Is the city buried in dreams? Yeah

Watching TV so bored, while imbeciles hold the mic cord
Graffiti playgrounds are played out, yo how'd that sound?
Army fatigues are weak, is for the minor leagues
No rapping cyphers or brothers in the rented Benz

Crews on stage, acting hard with a thousand friends
I saw the place turn plastic, crackers looping beats
People with no deals, walk men rappin' on the streets
I turned my back, 90 percent of the city sounded wack

Payola scams switched DJ's like a rubber band
Everybody clear with beats trying to be Premier
Clearing samples, your SP-12 fake examples
My money grows with green from my own label

While you act rich with no cash on the bigger label
Your tri state ways are shut down by barricades
In fact I packed my bags, and listened to E-40
Mac Mall, C-Bo, and other rappers you don't know

You're narrow minded and styles of mind you won't find it
My sound proceeds with moog and undertone bass
No comic gimmicks with beats rapping in my face
I come back real, solid rock razor steel
Taping your program, show the world I'm the man
You copy Poppa Large, the industry is large

Is the world made of plastic?
Is the city buried in dreams? Ow
Is the world made of plastic?
'Cause that's the way is seems, yeah

Is the world made of plastic?
Is the city buried in dreams? Ow
Is the world made of plastic?
'Cause that's the way is seems, yeah

As I do see sorta rugged wack beer commercials
Some rappers are bought and puppeteered like the Ninja Turtles
From Manhattan I heat up, yo light up Times Square
I make noise like open high hats on your cheap snare

No promotional shows, girls wear corn rows
People with hooded sweaters on crack keep me on my toes
I walk with straw hats, fake glasses in the projects
Bring my ghost image so tense on the line of scrimmage

Playing my numbers, waiting for the five to come
Spaghetti out the window, people acting dumb
Fire hazards wake the neighbors, your family's nosy
I come and go as I please on blockhead MC's

You bought new sneakers, no car, scrambling on the corner
I'm not the star you are, the city's fallen far
By mechanism, you're on my tip
Stay off my penis, you've duplicated me for years

Yeah, yeah, yeah, you are the one

Is the world made of plastic?
Is the city buried in dreams? Ow
Is the world made of plastic?
'Cause that's the way is seems, yeah

Is the world made of plastic?
Is the city buried in dreams? Ow
Is the world made of plastic?
'Cause that's the way is seems, yeah, ow

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5d610155b489febdfd7fece894a1b025

Waitin' On The Wonderful - Lyrics - Waiting On The Wonderful - Aaron Lines

Title: Waitin' On The Wonderful
Album: Waiting On The Wonderful
Artist: Aaron Lines
Composer(s): Angelo T Petraglia, David Allen Berg, Hillary Lindsey

Lyric:
It's way too easy to live this life
With your eyes half closed and don't I know
I spend half my time bored out of my mind sleepwalking
Well I wake up to this fools parade and I watch the leaves fall down
I see everything changin' but somehow I feel caged in
Just hanging around

I'm waitin' on the wonderful something to set me free
Out of the ordinary come and rescue me
Yeah I could use a little love, love, love to send me a sign
I'm tired of the typical, I'm waitin' on the wonderful

It's that feeling that's hard to explain
When the world's so big and your so small
And you get caught up in the wonder of it all, that's what I miss
I saw that look today on a young kids face
Eating ice cream at the Laudrymat
Well if you'd asked him it was Christmas again I wanna get that back

I'm waitin' on the wonderful little something to believe
Out of the ordinary taste of something sweet
Yeah I could use a little love, love, love to send me a sign
I'm tired of the typical, I'm waitin' on the wonderful

Yeah,yeah I'm waitin' the the wonderful
I know its out there

I'm wait on on the wonderful a little something to believe
Out of the ordinary come and rescue me
I can use a little love, love, love to send me a sign
I'm tired of the typical, yeah I'm waitin' on the wonderful, something mystical
I'm waitin' on the wonderful
I'm waitin' on the wonderful something to set me free

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fd27ddeeefd4e427a04e970c57fa101b

Act Of The Apostle Part 2 - Lyrics - The Life Pursuit - Belle And Sebastian

Title: Act Of The Apostle Part 2
Album: The Life Pursuit
Artist: Belle And Sebastian
Composer(s): Richard Colburn, Christopher Thoma Geddes, Stephen Thomas Jackson, Stuart Lee Murdoch, Michael Cooke, Sarah Ann Martin

Lyric:
I'm bored out of my mind, too sick to even care
I'll take a little walk, nobody's going to know
I'm in senior year, it gives you a little free time
I'll just use it all at once

Took the fence and the lane, the bus then the train
Bought an Independent to make me look like I've got brains
I made a story up in my head if anybody would ask
I'm going to a seminar

I'm a genius, I'm a prodigy
A demon at maths and science, I'm up for a prize
If you gotta grow up sometime
You've got to do it on your own
I don't think I could stand to be stuck
That's the way that things were going

The bible's my tool, there's no mention of school
My Damascan road's, my transistor radio
I tune in at night when my mum and my dad start to fight
I put on my headphones and I, I tune out, I am an devout
The girls are singing about my life
But they're not here, they've got the, the wild life

If you want to find out, find out
You've got to look them in the eye
That's why my only choice
Is find the face behind the voice

And she asked the man if the service was open
Not today, just the choir from the radio
Could not sit in I've come all this way
Will you bugger off, I've got work to do
The city was losing its appeal, God was asleep
He was back in a village, in the fields

Oh, if I could make sense of it all
I wish that I could sing, I'd stay in a melody
And I would float along in my everlasting song
What would I do to believe?

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af4ab7240c445cee1ce031311373bb20

Pass It On - Lyrics - Forever Everlasting - Everlast

Title: Pass It On
Album: Forever Everlasting
Artist: Everlast
Composer(s): B Bashir, Everlast Marvin Gaye

Lyric:
Ladies and Gentlemen, we've have the Everlast in the house tonight
I think they got something they want to say

I'm here to uplift, I don't bug, I don't drift
Away from my subjects, not even if my
Music stops or my beat is gone
I'm just here to express myself and pass it on

Speak much words of wisdom, Everlast has to jism
So sit back, relax, kick up your feet and listen to E
'Cause that's me no others can be, half as fine
I'll blow your mind, with the M I C

Get off the tip quick, boy you're making me sick
No other brother could be as smart as my man Kool Nick
Understand, he's my man with the plan
We come to parties with the possies, just to gain some fans

The posse is strong, the lines are long
People flocking to my shows just to hear a song like this
It's not a diss, it's a mouth full of bliss
Throw your hands in the air and blow me a kiss from the crowd

'Cause I'm proud, I'll say my name loud
Everlast pounds songs like a thunderin' cloud
It's not rock and roll, it's hip hop music
It's got a lot of soul if you learn how to use it

Well, I'm here to tell suckers, go to hell
Others tried to take me down, there the ones who fell
Ignorence, was then there for
Take it a little at a time, don't go for it all at once

'Cause that's just stupid, it don't make cents
Just relax and move your body don't look so tense
I'm not here to diss nobody, I'm just having some fun
Everlast lasts forever that's why I'm number one so pass it on

With the forty in my fist, brakin' out my list
Of all the suckers I'm out to diss
There's none to match me, or ever catch me
Off my guard so they can scratch me

Off the MC All-Star Team
Everlast is number one, that means I reign supreme
'Cause there ain't no others, listen up brother
Just 'cause I'm white don't mean that I'm another sucker

On the microphone, frontin' and fakin'
Not Mexican, Asian, Black, or Jamaican
Just a sensation made to be Caucasian
Get ready brothers, here comes an invasion

Don't try to stop it, you got a rhyme, drop it
You might detect that respects my topic
I won't rush you, but I'll discuss it
Go ahead and pop your shot if you think you can bust it

Bit I'ma go on, I'm gonna talk some more
I guarantee you won't be bored if you get on the floor
And go for yours, say that you did it
Get up get out your seats get on the floor and get with it

And listen to the rhyme I like to call mine
I rehearsed every verse and soon you will find
Not one mistake so don't try to brake
Or talk about takin' out my dope rhymes I make just pass 'em on

You're going wild for my flowing style
I don't stutter, I utter words, versatile
I'm entertaining with my brain, and always wearing a smile
I don't front, I don't fake, I run the whole mile

You clap 'cause I snap like a Crocodile
Whether I'm on the stage or in my domicile
I'm not feelin', I'ma smokin' tell you I'm no joke
You schemin' for my lyrics 'cause you know they're dope

Don't give me no no more wap, pour me glass of Rosae
I say soul to your health, and then I blow you away
Now said Simon on the Pieman, just rhymin' from my highway
The ones on the ladder, success I'm climbin'

Fierce like a lion, keepin' ducks tame
Murderin' into bits of MC's till none remain
Whose getting dumb, I'm number one shinin' like the sun
With a mic and my host and I'm on the run

Gunnin' down M.C.s and writin' on the wall
I gotta show down if you got the balls
Commence is my defense 'cause you makin' me tense
I make a lot a dollars but I make more cents so pass it on

Pass it on, pass it down the line
I can throw with the best, I go rhyme for rhyme
With that something claimin' talent
Thinkin' they got something
But what you don't realize is Everlast is number one

'Cause Everlast is on a superior level
Go ahead and laugh, call me a devil
I won't care, yeah, my skin is fair
But I fill it rhyme for rhyme anytime or where with you

Or any part of your crew and when I finish, you'll diminish
Take a sip of my brew and step off
Clear my throat with a cough and bust a move
To show 'em prove that I'm hard not soft

And with my DJ Bilal my beat will be furnish
You'll find with my rhyme your mind will be nourished
With wisdom and knowledge, yeah, I went to college
And if you get dissed, I won't apologize

'Cause that's not part of my rise, and I go on and on I go to any length
Just to show you when I throw my rhymes on the strength
I like to see the crowd moving when I come on
I'm trying to get my message across and pass it on

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24a7ebf6d86b86b741c163356680ec46

Feels So Good - Lyrics - Brand Nubian

Title: Feels So Good
Artist: Brand Nubian
Composer(s): Leroy L Jordan, Morris Dewayne Dickerson, Maxwell Dixon, Lorenzo De Chalus, Charles William Miller, Derek Murphy, Lee Oskar, Sylvester Allen, Howard E Scott, Harold Ray Brown

Lyric:
Yes, yes, yes it's a test test test now Rule is the town
Where we rest rest rest if you were wondering
Were the ballistics finally in once again, Brand Nubian!
You and your girl came to see the three rock

Now she stays kick the funky lyrics, throw her down
To her PJ'S lay her on the floor and do work
In three ways after the party, guess what?
Aiyyo she's still payin'!

Feels so good!

I got this girl a mink sable, in return I got a cable
Her name was Fat Mabel and she brought my kid to table
Ate pasta with this rasta, went out with her sister
Her hands on her chin, thought she was a mister
Went out disco dancing and my feet I made blister
Smacked in the face until I finally I dissed her

Encounter with a stunt, and I'm out for spot fronts
And stunts was on the wiggy, I thought her name was Ziggy
But her name was Lucy and I met her on the deucey
Put me on hold to go in a store to get loosey
(Come on)

Aiyyo mack she need to stop it
Now let me kick some flavor since we're building on the topic
'Cause yo, I knew this girl and her name was Tina
She rested in Medina, never saw eyes greener than hers
But yo there was just one little flaw, the green eyes

I had to penalize, cause they was bought in a store
A synthetic cosmetic, it was pathetic
If they was real, then yo she got the credit
But they wasn't so she doesn't
I like the natural look, so I kicked it to her cousin

Feels so good, feels so good

C'mere let me put it to you like this sugar
Don't go changing, to try to please me
Don't change the color of your hair!
Your hair, your hair, your hair!

I said no no no I just want
Someone that I can talk to!
I'll take you just the way you are!
Word is bond! yeah right!

Too hot to handle when I was young I used to vandal
Giving girls the comfort like a foot and a sandle
Always help another brother, never running scandals
And if I hit the skids, well I'll just panhandle

Now I'm gettin' papes, but stunts gets the vapes
I see it as a joke cause they break when you're broke
I can give a roar like an ancient dinosaur
Swing a microphone like the great mighty Thor

Puba Maxwell is the mack that's hyphenated
Girls seem to love the way my things are situated
Hump on a bump 'til them bumps is feelin sore
Take a quick breather then I'm goin back for more!

Feels so good, feels so good
Brother, Derek X, kick flavor

I do my thing like B.B. King my microphone is named Lucille
Throw a dip in my hip so they call me extra ill
Making big hits from tidbits, how I make my bread
Do some situps, and squat thrusts, to keep a level head

'Cause I'm well bred, and mannered, I create in my workshop
Stay up late at night until my brain says to stop
Then I quit, wake up in the morning and continue it
I find the same line, and add some more that's hype
(Shit)

But my stripes, marks me by champ
Check out the bass coming from the power amp
I'm the controller and like Ayatollah
I used to live in Saudi Arabia

I never come out straight out with an answer
Just a yes, or a no, or a maybe I do
But with my crew sometimes I get blazed
Jump on the floor and kick a new dance craze
I can read and I've red since the days of?

If rhymin' is fundamental, then light up a spliff
and grab, and not an ounce of flab, is on my body
My mother's part spanish, my father's part yardie
I'm not a junior, try to see me catch a?
I got yeast to rise straight through the moon

Feels so good
Feels so good
Feels so good
Lord Jamar, God Allah step to it!

Girls scope this, like in astrology they knowledge me
That's cause I'm God, but don't look too hard in the sun
'cause you might get done
My number's seven, that's six plus one
Now any way you count Lord Jamar will amount to be

A tower, so yo, knowledge my power
As I conclude, to girls I won't be rude
Just verbally feedin' em my mental food
I embellish with lyrics, that can't be contested

Serve 'em straight from my mouth and in your ears they're digested
The rhyme I say, is out of the ordinary
Some say unique I prefer the term extraordinary
MC's rhymes are ancient like a dinosaur fossil
They're weak and outdated while my rhymes are collosal

Like a Lamborghini, I look good, and I'm expensive
Plus the power I'm unleashing is just, too intensive
Discombublatin MC's with thin mind percentage
Guys like my rhymes, girls like my masculinity

When I'm on the mic I say what I feel
I'll never perpetrate cause the God's for real
It's like that and at my jams you know you'll never be bored
(That)
So just dance and scream, praise the Lord

Alright now this is how we gonna do it
Before we get out like shout

We used to be some soloists but now we form tri-pack
And if you try to step to this you just might catch an eye jack
And if you were intelligent, you really wouldn't try that
This is just one black, we'll be back!

To my man Alamo and to the man Sincere
To my man Mark the Spark and to my brother Melachon
And Skeff Anslem on the board aiyyo check this out
We got some shoutouts for my man Grand Puba
You know what I'm sayin' since he doin' the la la lah'
He wanna say peace to his man C T W O
To my man Zee I'll see you real soon!

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2bf6d3ef54abece8aa58bfc119e22976

You Must Have Been - Lyrics - Montell Jordan - Montell Jordan

Title: You Must Have Been
Album: Montell Jordan
Artist: Montell Jordan
Composer(s): Steve Estiverne, Kristin Hudson, James L Jones, Montell Du'Sean Jordan

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

Lyric:
Oh yeah, yeah, mmm
Mmm, mm-hmm, oh, oh
Damn

Must've been C R A Z Y
We got all out of sync and went bye bye bye
Not too long ago, you was mine mine mine
Seems like yesterday
(Yesterday)

Ninety on the freeway, pushin' my ride
Heard you got engaged and I'm losin' my mind
Ask myself the question, why why why
Why'd I let you get away from me?

Well you must've been, thinkin' I'm a jerk
Cryin' out to God, tryin' to make this work
Girl you must've been, stayin' with a fool
Loving somebody that could be so cruel

Well you must've been, packin' your bags
Silly of me, I couldn't see the red flag
Girl I'm sure that you must have been
(Sure that)
Sick and tired of me

Must've been tired of the jewels I bought
You must've been bored with the cars you got
I must've gave you everything you want
But you only wanted love
(Wanted love)

I must've been too damn blind to see
I thought you wanted much too much of me
Now I'm rollin' down this one way street
And you're all I'm thinkin' of, baby, mmm

Well you must've been, thinkin' I'm a jerk
Cryin' to God, tryin' to make this thing work
Girl you must've been, stayin' with a fool
Loving somebody that could treat you so cruel

Well you must've been, packin' your bags
Silly of me, I couldn't see the red flag
Girl I'm sure that you must have been
(Sure that)
Sick and tired of me

You must have been
The very one I was supposed to spend
My money, my life, my lover, my wife
Girl I know you were right

You must have been
The very one I was supposed to spend
Spend the rest of my life
Now it cuts like a knife, I know

Well you must've been, thinkin' I'm a jerk
Cryin' to God, tryin' to make this thing work
Girl you must've been, stayin' with a fool
Loving somebody who would treat you so cruel

Well you must've been, packin' all your bags
Silly of me, couldn't see the red flag
Girl I'm sure that you must have been
(Sure that)
You must have, you must have, you must have

(Well you must've been)
Now I know I don't have, mm, an invitation
(Girl you must've been)
And everybody in this church is gonna be mad at me
(Well you must've been)

I can't let you say, "I do"
That's why I'm down on my knee
(Girl I'm sure that you must have been)
The preacher said, speak now
Speak now or forever hold my peace

Well you must've been
(I know, I know, I know, I know, I know)
Girl you must've been
(I know, I know, I know, I know, I know)

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b0aa25502f5ab1deb6fe37430b64d690

Why Don'T I Miss You? - Lyrics - Great Burrito Extortion Case - Bowling For Soup

Title: Why Don'T I Miss You?
Album: Great Burrito Extortion Case
Artist: Bowling For Soup
Composer(s): Stacy Jones, Zac Maloy, Jaret Reddick

Lyric:
Remember back at Ryder High
Wishing on stars in the Texas sky
I got your name tattooed
Across my heart, how could we lose?

Back in black when we were hand in hand
Two young kids like Jack and Diane
Falling at the speed of light
And burning up never felt so right

So why I don?t miss you?
Tell me what am I supposed to do
After all the shit that we?ve been through
I can?t feel a thing

Maybe I was too high
Maybe I just sobered up too soon
And you?re still on the dark side of the moon
And always on my mind
So why don?t I miss you?

So many nights we drove around
King and queen of the whole damn town
Voted 'Most likely to succeed'
We were everybody?s meant to be

Burned out plans to take over the world
Did I fuck it up or did we just get bored
Of losing at the same old game?
We had our 15 minutes of fame

We took it all the way
You can?t say we didn?t try

So why I don?t miss you?
Tell me what am I supposed to do
After all the shit that we?ve been through
I can?t feel a thing

Maybe I was too high
Maybe I just sobered up too soon
And you?re still on the dark side of the moon
And always on my mind
So why don?t I miss you?

Why don?t I miss the way
You laugh at everything I say?
You mom?s apple pie
Always blew me away

It?s funny how I always write
The same old song
I wonder if you ever sing along with me
Sing along with me

So why I don?t miss you?
Tell me what am I supposed to do
After all the shit that we?ve been through
I can?t feel a thing

Maybe I was too high
Maybe I sobered up too soon
And you?re still on the dark side of the moon
And you're always on my mind
So why don't I miss you?

(Burned out plans to take over the world)
(I got your name tattooed)
Why don't I miss you?
(Did I fuck it up or did we just get bored?
(Across my heart, how could we lose?

Why don't I miss you?
(So many nights we drove around)
(But we were losing at the same old game)
Why don't I miss you?
(King and queen of the whole damn town)
(We had our 15 minutes of fame)
Why don't I miss you?

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5168a98e02ab80417d049dc4355aa521

Criminal Minded - Lyrics - A Retrospective - Krs One

Title: Criminal Minded
Album: A Retrospective
Artist: Krs One
Composer(s): S Larock, Lawrence Parker

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

Lyric:
Boogie Down Productions will always get paid
We'll take the wackest song and make it better
Remember to let us into your skin
'Cause then you'll begin to master
Rhymin', rhymin', rhymin'

Criminal minded, you've been blinded
Lookin', for a style like mine you can't find it
They are the audience I am the lyricist
Sometimes the suckas on the side gotta hear this

Page, a rage and I'm not in a cage
Free as a bird to fly up out on stage
Ain't here for no frontin', just to say a little somethin'
Ya suckaz don't like me 'cause you're all about nothin'

However, I'm really fascinatin' to the letter
My all around performance gets better and better
My English grammar comes down like a hammer
You need a style, I need to pull your file

I don't beg favors, you're kissin' other people's
I write and produce myself just as fast
Keep my hair like this, got no time for Jheri curls
Attractin' only women, got no time for little girls

'Cause girls look so good
But their brain is not ready, I don't know
I'd rather talk to a woman
'Cause her mind is so steady, so here we go

I'm not a musical maniac or b-boy fanatic
I simply made use of what was upstairs in the attic
I've listened to these MC's back when I was a kid
But I bust more shots than they ever did

I mean this is not the best of KRS, it's just a section
But how many times must I point you in the right direction
You need protection, when I'm on the mic
Because my mouth is like a 9 millimeter windpipe

You're a king, I'm a teacher, you're a b-boy, I'm a scholar
If this was a class well, it would go right under drama
See kings lose crowns but teachers stay intelligent
Talkin' big words on the mic but still irrelevant

Especially when you're not, college material
Wake up every mornin' to your Lucky Charms cereal
DJ Scott LaRock has a college degree
Blastmaster KRS writes poetry

I won't go deeper in the subject 'cause that gets me bored
It's a shame to know some MC's on the mic are fraud
Sayin' styles like this to create a diss
But if you listen, who you dissin'? See I am a musician

Rappin' on the mic like this to me is fine
'Cause if I really want to battle I will put out a nine
You can see that Scott LaRock and I are mentally binded
In other words we're both criminal minded

We're not promoting violence, we're just havin' some fun
He's Scott LaRock, I'm KRS-One
Never off-beat 'cause it don't make sense
Grab the microphone, relaxed and not tense

You waited, debated and now you activated
A musical genius that could not be duplicated
See I have the formula for rockin' the house
If you cannot rock a party do not open your mouth

It's that simple, no phony cosmetics to your pimple
Take another look because the gear is not wrinkled
The K, the R, the S, the O, the N, the E
Sayin' rhyme for eighty-seven not from 1983

Well versed, to rehearse and my rhymes are my curse
Originality come first but the suckers get worse
Allow me to include I have a very stable mood
Poetic education of a high altitude

I'm not an MC, so listen, call me poet or musician
A genius when it comes to makin' music with ambition
I'm cool, collected with the rhyme I directed
Don't wanna be elected as the king of a record

Just respected by others as the man with the solution
An artist of the 80's came and left his contribution
On wax, relax, there's 24 tracks
After years of rockin' parties now I picked up the knack

Because everythin' that flows from out my larynx
Takes years of experience and bottles of Beck's
I cannot seem to recollect the time I didn't have sex
Is it real or is it Memorex?

I'm livin' in a city known as New York State
Sucka MC's gotta wait while I translate
I hang with real live dreads with knowledge in their heads
People with ambition and straight up musicians

Although our lives have been so uprooted
I have it included, you all get zooted
So take each letter of the KRS-One
Means knowledge reigns supreme over nearly everyone

You look at me and laugh, but this is your class
It's an all-out discussion of the suckas I be crushin'
So now you are awakened to the music I be makin'
Never duplicated, and also highly cultivated

Don't get frustrated 'cause nothin' has been traded
Only activated, it came out very complicated
Not separated, from my DJ, you see my voice is now faded
I'll see you folks around the way, criminal minded
Criminal minded, criminal minded, criminal minded

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800da6b8b40753535ae0c7811b79f4e4

Dr. Dooom'S In The Room - Lyrics - Dr. Dooom

Title: Dr. Dooom'S In The Room
Artist: Dr. Dooom
Composer(s): Keith Thornton

Lyric:
Yeah, for the motherfuckin' 2000
In this mother
Straight from Houston, Tex
The motherfuckin' Dr. Dooom

I'm shuttin' rappers down like guiliani shut down strip clubs
Turnin' your fake gangster hardcore stories
Into some Mickey Mouse, Teletubbies shit
Y'all niggaz need to quit, stop pullin' your silicone tits

And this city is my town
Don't even fuckin' tryin' to say a fly rhyme
I'm holdin' possessions you don't own
And your cellular phone don't even fuckin' roam

Y'all got the nerve to be standin' in the hot rap zone
Against somethin' you can't afford
Rappers be soundin' bored at the show
I need to start pullin' your bitch-ass fuckin' extension cord

Suckers be fakers, ATM pullin' frauds
I'm sendin' two men, out to boo men
Quick to get to y'all niggaz like Western Union
I'm comin' like the fax machine

I pour it on your whole team
Y'all niggaz ain't got time to scheme
I'm out to shatter your fuckin' rap dreams
Top to bottom, any angle, whatever your bullshit mind think

Your words gon' tangle
Sound like shit on a tascan mix
A bunch of y'all tracks need to be fixed
Professionally, you sound like the dog toto

When I see Flex, I'ma ask him
Why he playin' a lot of records from a bunch of homos
With feminine vocals
I catch niggaz when clubs are packed, rubbin' elbows

Tryin' to whisper shit in ugly bitches earlobes
Dr. Dooom callin' wack niggaz houses from the Radisson hotel room
Penthouse suites, bitch niggaz get 911 beeps
I'm always hearin' more softest MC's talk shit about the streets

Fuck your seedy impression of pain
Ninety-nine percent of your shit was normal
One percent sound strange
A&R's be suckin' a lot of dick
And spreadin' they ass cheeks to get the hits

Dr. Dooom is in the room
Walkin' up the street, with bare feet, eatin' raw steak meat
Dr. Dooom is in the room
Walkin' up the street, with bare feet, eatin' raw steak meat

Dr. Dooom is in the room
Walkin' up the street, with bare feet, eatin' raw steak meat
Dr. Dooom is in the room
Walkin up

You couldn't rap with me if we was twins stuck together
You be the deformed one, catchin' the warm one
I pay a crack head five dollars
To fuck up your million dollar marketing plan

With a brand new sub-machine gun
And a hot dog, on a Yankee stadium bun
First class rates, hire wall street messengers
To move your antique rap styles in milk crates

Special delivery for all you motherfuckers
Sportin' hard boots with ashey faces tryin' to get with me
Y'all suckers is amateurs, gettin' fucked up the assholes
By the top worst managers

On the publishin' deal, wipe my condoms off your Ampex reels
No games to be played, you lookin' fuckin' jiggy
MC's with collared shirts and shoes tryin' to duplicate biggie
No matter where, you only got one pair

Alligators don't match with them fuckin' flares
Who's doin' your dress code, some old stank bitch
With mascara touchin' up your face on the road
You feelin' healthier, your rap audience

Is only New Pork to Philadelphia
Baltimore never even heard your fuckin' metaphor
Shut the fuck up, put your buck up, look at the dicks you suck up
Maximum ass thoughts, you fuckin' get crushed

Like the five o'clock train rush, sweaty as a motherfucker
The best rapper can lick my ass
I make your girl pick me up lick my sperm in your E-class
Leave my diapers moist in the back seat of your rolls Royce
Stop your whole organization on park avenue and start laughin' at you

Dr. Dooom is in the room
Walkin' up the street, with bare feet, eatin' raw steak meat
Dr. Dooom is in the room
Walkin' up the street, with bare feet, eatin' raw steak meat

Dr. Dooom is in the room
Walkin' up the street, with bare feet, eatin' raw steak meat
Dr. Dooom is in the room
Walkin' up the street, with bare feet, eatin' raw steak meat

You ain't the top rap in the country
New jacks, you shoulda knew that
From experience, you couldn't write from the beginnin'
Bookin' studio time, with some scramblin' concert shit on your mind

Who's crowd, the blues feel my news
Accurately in New York City
There's a thousand motherfuckers tryin' to rap and look pretty
Save it for David

Take that motherfuckin' rented ride back to Avis
When it come to rap I'm the big motherfucker on the pay list
Ridin' the Amtrak, lookin' at Billboard
You need to be hung on a steel cord

Sittin' next to a Doberman, shit in Harlem
Any poodles on the mic, we gon' stop 'em
I'm in the dressin' room with the average bitch
Lookin' like halle berry, rubbin' my nuts

My fingers all up in her guts
Watchin' Monday night football with my dick all up in her butt
MC's stand away when I pull out my mitt put your hand away
Most of these fake hard rappers never seen the projects

Live in fuckin' pesquateway
Scared, palm that away
Why don't you bastards move back in the metro area
The Marriott is the spot

Where the prostitutes lick your Rolex watch
Left you naked out with your stomach out
Hangin' out with cocaine on the dresser
With a Puerto Rican girl with HIV from park chester

You sniffin' that shit again
Souped up from the neck up from the butt crack up
You need a fuckin' checkup

Dr. Dooom is in the room
Walkin' up the street, with bare feet, eatin' raw steak meat
Dr. Dooom is in the room
Walkin' up the street, with bare feet, eatin' raw steak meat

Dr. Dooom is in the room
Walkin' up the street, with bare feet, eatin' raw steak meat
Dr. Dooom is in the room
Walkin' up the street, with bare feet, eatin' raw steak meat

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f2eb84e64e8902650e1dcbb1ac74b199

Happy Together - Lyrics - K Young

Title: Happy Together
Artist: K Young
Composer(s): Garry Bonner, Alan Gordon, Tico Khrimian, Kenny Pratt

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

Lyric:
On the block I'm in my zone
Call you up but you're not home
I can't wait to see you later on this evening
We kick it deep into none of us alone
Nothing we do is wrong

I just wanna walk with you, talk with you
Baby, can I spark with you?
Anything you wanna do
Shorty know it's all for you
I wanna get to know ya

Think of places I can show ya
All the things you've ever seen in your dreams ooh
Let me know what the deal
We can roll, we can chill by the fire

If you're tired we can vibe all night
I'll tell you mine, you tell me yours
If we get bored, we lock the doors
I don't need none of my peoples they all can leave

Imagine you and me and me and you
I think about you day and night
It's only right to think about the girl you love
And hold her tight so happy together

If I should call you up invest a dime
And you say you belong to me
And ease my mind
Imagine how the world would be
So very fine, so happy together

I just wanna walk with you, talk with you
Baby can I spark with you
Anything you wanna do
Shorty know it's all for you
I wanna get to know ya

Think of places I can show ya
All the things you've ever seen in your dreams, ooh
Let me know what the deal
We can roll we can chill by the fire
(Yeah)

If you're tired we can vibe all night
(All night)
I'll tell you mine, you tell me yours
(Tell me yours)
If we get bored, we lock the doors
(Lock the doors)
I don't need none of my peoples they all can leave

Yeah, it's so many places I'd like to show ya
Taking trips out to Barcelona
Paris spendin' have romantic diners
Keep room for dessert when the food is finished

I'ma break you off like the roots in musiq
Kick it with chicks that I choose to move with
So if you would tell me who you crew wit'
I tell you who you are and figure out if you're with me for the car

And it
(Ain't what a man drives)
It's what drives a man and if a man dies
For the things he believes in
If so when he dies it will seem like he's leaving

Believe me I'm keeping you satisfied
Put the drama aside and just ride
Even with the darkest weather get riched
At get the cheater or get the blunt licked

Give me respect and I bet we'll be happy together
(One)
Let me know what the deal
We can roll we can chill by the fire
(We can chill)

If you're tired we can vibe all night
I'll tell you mine you tell me yours
If we get bored, we lock the doors
(Lock the doors)
I don't need none of my peoples they all can leave

Imagine you and me and me and you
I think about you day and night
It's only right to think about the girl you love
And hold her tight so happy together

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089eaf3bc0f2bffab6530d3f7fd3bafd

No Diggity - Lyrics - Dr. Dre

Title: No Diggity
Artist: Dr. Dre
Composer(s): Raymon Murray, William Stewart, Richard S Iii Vick, Patrick Brown, Teddy Riley, Chauncey Hannibal, Lynise Walters, Rico Wade, William Withers

Lyric:
Yeah, you know what
I like the playettes
No diggity, no doubt
Play on playette, play on playette
Yo Dre, drop the verse

It's going down, fade to Blackstreet
The homies got RB, collab' creations
Bump like Acne, no doubt
I put it down, never slouch

As long as my credit can vouch
A dog couldn't catch me ass out
Tell me who can stop when Dre making moves
Attracting honeys like a magnet

Giving 'em eargasms with my mellow accent
Still moving this flavor
With the homies Blackstreet and Teddy
The original rump shakers

Shorty get down, good Lord
Baby got 'em up open all over town
Strictly biz, she don't play around
Cover much ground, got game by the pound

Getting paid is a forte
Each and every day, true player way
I can't get her out of my mind
I think about the girl all the time

East side to the west side
Pushing phat rides, it's no surprise
She got tricks in the stash
Stacking up the cash
Fast when it comes to the gas

By no means average
As long as she's got to have it
Baby, you're a perfect ten, I wanna get in
Can I get down, so I can win?

I like the way you work it
(No diggity)
I got to bag it up
(Bag it up)

I like the way you work it
(No diggity)
I got to bag it up
(Bag it up, girl)

I like the way you work it
(No diggity)
I got to bag it up
(Bag it up)

I like the way you work it
(No diggity)
I got to bag it up

She's got class and style
She knowledge by the pound
Baby, never act wild
Very low key on the profile

Catchin' feelins is a no
Let me tell you how it goes
Curve's the words, spin's the verbs
Lovers it curves, so freak what you heard

Rollin' with the phatness
You don't even know what the half is
You gotta pay to play
Just for shorty, bang-bang, to look your way

I like the way you work it
Trumped tight, all day, every day
You're blowing my mind, maybe in time
Baby, I can get you in my ride

I like the way you work it
(No diggity)
I got to bag it up
(Bag it up)

I like the way you work it
(No diggity)
I got to bag it up
(Bag it up)

I like the way you work it
(No diggity)
I got to bag it up
(Bag it up, babe)

I like the way you work it
(No diggity)
I got to bag it up

Hey yo, hey yo, hey yo, hey yo
(Hey yo, that girl looks good)
Hey yo, hey yo, hey yo, hey yo
(Play on, play on playette)

Hey yo, hey yo, hey yo, hey yo
(You're my kind of girl, no diggity)
Hey yo, hey yo, hey yo, hey yo
(Hey yo)

'Cause that's my peeps and we rolls deep
Flying first class from New York City to Blackstreet
What you know about me, not a motherfucking thing
Cartier wooded frames sported by my shortie

As for me, icy gleaming, pinky diamond ring
We be's the baddest clique up on this scene
Ain't you getting bored with these fake ass broads
High shows and proves, no doubt, I be takin' you, so

Please excuse, if I come across rude
That's just me and that's how the playettes got to be
Stay kicking game with a capital G
Ax the peoples on my block, I'm as real as can be

Word is born, faking moves never been my thing
So, Teddy, pass the word to your nigga Chauncy
I be sitting in a car, let's say around 3:30
Queen Pen and Blackstreet, it's no diggity

I like the way you work it
(No diggity)
I got to bag it up
(Bag it up)

I like the way you work it
(No diggity)
I got to bag it up

Hey yo, hey yo, hey yo, hey yo
Hey yo, hey yo, hey yo, hey yo

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