The Great Midwest - Lyrics - John Mellencamp

Title: The Great Midwest
Artist: John Mellencamp
Composer(s): John Mellencamp

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Lyric:
Everything is slower here, everybody's got a union card
They get up on Sunday, go to church of their choice
Come back home, cook out in the backyard

And they call this the Great Midwest
Where the cornfields grow and flow
They're all 5 years ahead of their time
Or 25 behind, I just don't know

And all the young men talk about their 4 wheel drives
How much money they're gonna make on Friday night
And they like to brag about how they mistreat their girlfriends
Hey, let's get drunk, party it up, start a fight

And they call this the Great Midwest
Sure make a hell of a car
And the old hearts, they race their way through the night
The upheaval of who they really are

Growin' up under normal conditions, television and radio
That's just about all of this whole world
That any of us get to see, get to know

And they call this the Great Midwest
Where you sacrifice body and soul
No one really wants to get even
Most of us find it hard enough just lettin' go

Don't get me wrong, I ain't complaining
I ain't braggin', nor do I mean to place blame
That's just the way things are around here
And there's a future carryin' my name on it

Sayin' hey man, you gonna stick around here you better get on it
If you're gonna stick around here
You better make yourself some real good friends

Well, I wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth
So I can't talk about the big city hi-life
You wanna talk about bein' bored and runnin'
Away from yourself, hell, I can talk to you all night

And they call this the Great Midwest
Where livin' is just gettin' by
And people, they trade in their happiness
For a smokestack, a big money deal in the sky

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Lean Back Remix - Lyrics - All or Nothing - Fat Joe

Title: Lean Back Remix
Album: All or Nothing
Artist: Fat Joe
Composer(s): Joseph Anthony Cartagena, Remy Smith, Scott Storch

Lyric:
Stop
It's the mother fucking remix

Uh yeah, Harlem in tact
Who in the world wanna problem with that?
For real I heard Harlem is back
Who in the world wanna problem with that?

Uh yeah, Harlem is back
Who in the world wanna problem with that?
You know I heard Harlem is back
Who in the world wanna problem with that?

Let's go

Said, "My niggaz don't dance, we just pull up our pants
And do the rockaway"
(Yeah)
"Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back"

I said, "My niggaz don't dance, we just pull up our pants
And do the rockaway"
(Yeah)
"Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back"

Yo yo yo yo, it's deja vu
And the day y'all do
(Wus up)
It'll be the day y'all bleed
Wrist minus 80 degrees
King of Harlem ain't nobody made me leave
(Tell 'em)
Who else could take 5 years off?
Cold turkey come back and fly lears off
(Hey)
Cats front leave them leaning like Smirnoff
(What)
If haters wanna hate then it's their loss
(Yeah)

Come up in the Rucker with all my Jake's on
(Yeah)
Car grills so big you can cook a steak on
(Yeah)
People hear Mase call 'em wanna get their mase on
You hot 16 I'm a very great song
(Yeah)
Been beating on the DJ before the Mase song
(Yeah)
You play Clake Kent you better have your cake on
(What)
Plenty homes Mansion many rooms
My necklace, 2 ex's and 3 Bentley bulls now
Lean back, lean back, lean back
(Come on)

Lean back, lean back, lean back
(What's up)

You don't want no problems with Harlem
You don't want no problems with the boogie down Bronkster
(Yeah)
You don't want no drama with the blond bomber
Original don dotta of the blond bottle
The model from white America
(Hey)
Then Joe the spokesperson for the Latino
Then we got Mase back to represent everything else
In between including the percentages of the press we don't

The best from each coast
The midwest to the, "Dirty dirty"
Even further to Miami
All the way back to California
(Hey, hey)
It would probably be best right now
If I warned Dre to get on the horn
And tell him about the storm coming all our way
So tell him, pack, grab a gat right now get on the floor I'll wait
Shake that ass a little more my way
But baby, I don't dance, not that I can't, there's a pistol in my pants

Said, "My niggaz don't dance, we just pull up our pants
And do the rockaway"
(Yeah)
"Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back"

I said, "My niggaz don't dance, we just pull up our pants
And do the rockaway"
(Yeah)
"Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back"
(Come on)

Aye yo, remy pop but I'm hot like an out of state spot
And anybody think I'm not, you're found in a vacant lot
You don't really wanna run wit da one chick
Who smoke dutchess for lunchess
Da castle hill I ain't luncheon
Now it's on it 4 da terror squad, pun, prospect, sunshine
Geddy, crack and remy ma
It's the hottest chick, in this game won't it

Mah 16 so mean, put 20 g's and mah chain on it quik 2 flip
I ain't da average chick, I'm pakin' a mac in da bak of the 45 pass 6
And you know I got enough dudes to crush a country
Any dude disrespectin' pun he betta play da run C
Bring your man's, and den we hands all him
Den we pull timbaland tramplum, den we pull da cats in dem
Lean back 'cuz I ain't eva worry, see I'm foreva glory
Smakin' up any chick in mah territory

Said, "My niggaz don't dance, we just pull up our pants
And do the rockaway"
(Yeah)
"Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back"

I said, "My niggaz don't dance, we just pull up our pants
And do the rockaway"
(Yeah)
"Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back"

No Judas or cowardice that Caine's brother Abel
Is able to stop me, nigga not me
Got the streets asking damn who can top P
Summer jam killed it man they did it all with 1 beat
I guess I'm bicoastal now
Took a down south brother to bring your boy out
As the wheel keeps spinning
I can hear niggas thinking crack got one hit then he out

No Joey, bring them semi's out
Force you and yours to pour a little Henny out
So much rappers acting in the game
I had to tell them put the mic away and run and get your Emmy's out
Lean back motherfucker
This here's a three peat we back at the Rucker
It's good coke, Crack preach it to your brother
The mic more rap and preach you motherfucker

Said, "My niggaz don't dance, we just pull up our pants
And do the rockaway"
(Yeah)
"Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back"

I said, "My niggaz don't dance, we just pull up our pants
And do the rockaway"
(Yeah)
"Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back"

Said, "My niggaz don't dance, we just pull out a gat
And say blow your block away
Fuck nigga, lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back"

I said, "My niggaz don't dance we just pull out a gat
And say blow your block away
Bitch nigga lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back"
(Hey)

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1fce148af2d09cdc44e325875df98233

This Goes Out - Lyrics - Murphy Lee

Title: This Goes Out
Artist: Murphy Lee
Composer(s): Jon Smith, Murphy Lee, Tohri Murphy Lee Harper, David Brown Williams, Jason Epperson, Pierre Jones, Dwayne Carter

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Lyric:
This goes out to my Midwest crew
Now hold ya M-Dub in the air if ya feel me
Fuck 'em all day, fuck 'em all night
Candy paint on D's and fo's

Yo, ayyo I eat, sleep, shit, rap
Hip hop, kidnap
Snoop Dogg 'Lac
Wit the diamond in the back

I rep it like a mayor mayn
Summin' like a playa mayn
St. Louis cookin'
And I'm Murphy Lee the killer mayn

As-salaama lakem, lakem salaam
Praise the Lord or say peace to God
I'm just a Skool Boy, call me Mr. Do-What-You-Do-Fool
Claim where you from or we will claim where you move to

Home is where you make it, eat a meal and get naked
You can, walk in yo drawers and nobody could say shit
I got STL tatted on my right arm, some of 'em saw 'em
I ain't dyin' but yo I'm definitely gon' fight for 'em

And keep it tight for 'em, and keep it hype for 'em
And buy at the bar whatever gon' keep the night goin'
Do what you do and you do it, just do it big
And if you live to get it then you gon' get it how you live 'cuz

This goes out to my West Coast crew
Throw ya dub up in the air if ya feel me
Fuck 'em all day, fuck 'em all night
Hit the switch on yo six fo's

Naps, rock, skit West Coast style
T-shirt, khakalack, swerve in the Cadillac
Young Roscoe, the black Burt Bacharach
Serve the sacks, flippin' skirts like acrobats

Now dip wit ya nigga, I take you on a ride
Through that place known worldwide as the Westside
Chronic, Daytons, switches, dubs
Cap turned to the back wit skirts at the Caddy shack

Los Angeles where they sag to the mud
Drop the back let it drag, du rags, full of thugs
Ya hard to the back, car full of "blat"
Why A's decay, we ain't hard to get at

I rock a 5 double O wit the bubble nose
Stop, drop the top I holla at a couple hoes
Fo sho they wanna roll wit the Philly fanatic
Runnin' the radio in Cali 'cuz I stay in the traffic

This goes out to my East Coast crew
Throw ya E's up in the air if ya feel me
Fuck 'em all day, fuck 'em all night
Rock ya hoodies and Timbo's

Yo, yo, step in the party like
Sippin' on Bacardi like
I hooked up wit the 'Tics they like
It's gettin' frisky for me
Girls, they strippin' for me
Lil' Jon you wit us homey?

I gettin' brainin', pimpin' I can't complainin'
It's crazy I can't explain' it, it's the Derrty Entertainment
Man, I like to stop and go, she like to mop and glow
Lovin' this track 'cuz we gonna rock and roll

I huff and puff until my indo's gone
So I, get to stompin' wit my Timbo's on
We might be floppin' homey, we all critic
Welcome to Harlem World A.K. New York City

We forever runnin' round, here forever creepin'
Up all night 'cuz homey we ain't never sleepin'
But I came to do this wit my derrty Murphy
Y'all niggas betta obey, 'cuz you can get it

This goes out to my Dirty South crew
Throw ya S up in the air if ya feel me
Fuck 'em all day, fuck 'em all night
If ya tempted to throw them bows

Get yo hands up bitch
Show yo goddamn clit
Get yo hands up bitch
Show yo goddamn clit

We gon' drink a fifth of Hen
And we gon' rock it to this bitch
We gon' drink a fifth of Hen
And we gon' rock it to this bitch

We represent that Dirty
We ain't expectin' no shit
We represent that Dirty
We ain't expectin' no shit

We wild out in the club
Same shit we don't give a fuck
We wild out in the club
Same shit we don't give a fuck

Lil' Weezy, fuckin' Baby, 5'4 fo'
4-5 make a nigga go
I'm a fly young nigga, ho South cold's great
Stay low when get cake

Yeah, me no play we can take it outside
Never met a nigga take myself pride
It's Wizzy Wizzle, Southside guy
Outside fly, gutta gutta in the South, wild 5

I represent that money
I ain't scared to throw my shit up
Soon as I throw it high up, holla back, Squire
I'm screwed up I drive slow not fast
Birdman Jr. I got stones not cash, bitch

I'm from the swamp I smoke dro not grass
P.O.C. rolled on my hands, got a 90 degree fo' in my pants
Give you this respect
I'm still mackin', you can smell the Pimp Juice on my breath

Get yo hands up bitch
Show yo goddamn clit
Get yo hands up bitch
Show yo goddamn clit

We gon' drink a fifth of Hen
And we gon' rock it to this bitch
We gon' drink a fifth of Hen
And we gon' rock it to this bitch

We represent that Dirty
We ain't expectin' no shit
We represent that Dirty
We ain't expectin' no shit

We wild out in the club
Same shit we don't give a fuck
We wild out in the club
Same shit we don't give a fuck

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9d3db74ef171761e2b287dd08fdfbb00

Cramp Ya Style - Lyrics - Grits Sandwiches For Breakfast - Kid Rock

Title: Cramp Ya Style
Album: Grits Sandwiches For Breakfast
Artist: Kid Rock
Composer(s): Dozier Holland Jones Johnny Pate, A Toussaint

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Lyric:
Everything I do gonna be funny

New Player on the field so yield and get back to the wall
'Cause I'm playin' ya all like a game K-I-D is the name
Some complain' and they got a little fame
And it's a shame for what its worth I'm down with earth
Pourin' it on like Ms. Butter worth
Rich and thick Kinda quick not slow
The rhymes I fit into flow all in a row, from the intro to the end so, ho

Put down the microphone and go
Step a side as I make room to bloom
Any opposing goo gets placed in a tomb
As soon as I grip the mic to get loose
Don't dispute 'cuz ya got no juice
Meanwhile I kick a rhyme from the pile
Huh, as I cramp ya style
Cramp ya style

Get down on your knees and pray when I break you
Down with a sound comin' down with a pound or a bang
If you can't hang with the slang that I exploit
Comin' straight from Detroit

Rough without a doubt or a question
Kid Rock here in the flesh
And addressin' and defining certain issues
To diss you

So wipe the tears from your eyes
You cant hide so don't be surprised
When I dismiss you from your throne and send you home
As a Kid Rock clone

'Cause I can hold my own like ya hold a milk bone
Simple as this with a grip that won't quit
So when I hit the skit
That's it

So don't come in face with the base
And remember your just an imitation
Don't get buck while in fact don't smile
'Cause I'll pull your file as I cramp ya style
Cramp ya style

I'll claim the boundaries of my domain
Detroit, detroit
Fresh, I'm from the Midwest
From Mo Town, from Mo Town

I'm like steel or concrete yo 'cause I'm the hardest
Down with a label known to be the largest
Not bein' modest don't even think of tryin' to hang
'Cause yo Kid Rock rolls like a Stop O

I roll thick, I roll heavy
D-Nice justs keeps the pace steady
So get ready to feel the pain
I'm Kid Rock drivin' girls insane

So listen rappers and get to the program
Breakin' ya down is the Kid rock slogan
And any rapper who thinks about dissin'
You know what I'll say?
I got a great big dick

So anyone who can't adjust
Gets rust and then bites the dust
Be ready to walk a mile
'Cause I'll smack that Kool-Aid smile as I cramp ya style
Cramp ya style

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95cd36114b44e1f70639e085162a8672

Mr. Tanner - Lyrics - Harry Chapin

Title: Mr. Tanner
Artist: Harry Chapin
Composer(s): Harry F. Chapin

Lyric:
Mr. tanner was a cleaner from a town in the Midwest
And of all the cleaning shops around he'd made his the best
But he also was a baritone who sang while hanging clothes
He practiced scales while pressing tails and sang at local shows
His friends and neighbors praised the voice
That poured out from his throat
They said that he should use his gift instead of cleaning coats

But music was his life, it was not his livelihood
And it made him feel so happy and it made him feel so good
And he sang from his heart and he sang from his soul
He did not know how well he sang, it just made him whole

His friends kept working on him to try music out full time
A big debut and rave reviews, a great career to climb
Finally they got to him, he would take the fling
A concert agent in New York agreed to have him sing
And there were plane tickets, phone calls, money spent to rent the hall
It took most of his savings but he gladly used them all

But music was his life, it was not his livelihood
And it made him feel so happy and it made him feel so good
And he sang from his heart and he sang from his soul
He did not know how well he sang, it just made him whole

The evening came, he took the stage, his face set in a smile
And in the half filled hall the critics sat watching on the aisle
But the concert was a blur to him, spatters of applause
He did not know how well he sang, he only heard the flaws
But the critics were concise, it only took four lines
But no one could accuse them of being over kind

Mr. Martin Tanner, baritone of Dayton, Ohio
Made his town hall debut last night
Be came well prepared, but unfortunately his presentation
Was not up to contemporary professional standards
His voice lacks the range of tonal color
Necessary to make it consistently interesting

Full time consideration of another endeavor might be in order

He came home to Dayton and was questioned by his friends
Then he smiled and just said nothing and he never sang again
Excepting very late at night when the shop was dark and closed
He sang softly to himself as he sorted through the clothes

Music was his life, it was not his livelihood
And it made him feel so happy, it made him feel so good
And he sang from his heart and he sang from his soul
And he did not know how well he sang, it just made him whole

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5ff344f4659db63a3d3443b49833e08d

California Girls - Lyrics - Crazy From The Heat - David Lee Roth

Title: California Girls
Album: Crazy From The Heat
Artist: David Lee Roth
Composer(s): Brian Wilson, Mike Love

Lyric:
Well, east coast girls are hip
I really dig those styles they wear
And the southern girls with the way they talk
They knock me out when I'm down there

The Midwest farmer's daughters
Really make you feel alright
And the northern girls with the way they kiss
They keep their boyfriends warm at night

I dig them, girls
I wish they all could be California
I wish they all could be California
I wish they all could be California girls

The west coast has the sunshine
And the girls all get so tanned
I dig a French bikini on Hawaiian coast
By a palm tree in the sand

I been all around this great big world
And I've seen all kinds of girls, yeah
But I couldn't wait to get back in the States
Back to the cutest girls in the world

I dig them, girls
I wish they all could be California
I wish they all could be California
I wish they all could be California girls

Girls, girls, girls, girls, I dig them, girls
(I wish they all could be California)
Girls, girls, girls, girls, I dig them, girls
(I wish they all could be California)

Girls, girls, girls, girls, I dig them, girls
(I wish they all could be California)
Girls, girls, girls, girls, I dig them, girls
(I wish they all could be California)

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Lost In America - Lyrics - No Shame - Pepper

Title: Lost In America
Album: No Shame
Artist: Pepper
Composer(s): Yesod Anton Williams, Zachary Andrew Barnhorst, Kaleo Kalani Wassman, Bret Keoni Bollinger

Lyric:
East coast is gonna swallow ya, swallow ya
Midwest is gonna burn it down
West coast I'm gonna follow ya, follow ya
On my way to Kona Town

Drive along the country roads
Well, just don't *** on the Alamo
Jump up the station down in coco
Eat sushi on Hudson after the NYC show

I'm sorry Craig but we got to go
So say hi to slug in the prince disco
Time was great as the pictures show
But it's a really long time to where we got to go

Lost in America
I'm feeling lost in America
No one really knows ya
When you're lost in America

I gotta [Incomprehensible] while I pay the toll
Eat day old food uncomfortable
Seattle, AZ, Vegas is the show
Head up to bean town bounce to Chicago

Sorry little baby but we got to go
Say goodbye to [Incomprehensible] and the town he owns
Now the time was great as the pictures show
But it's a really long drive to where we got to go

Lost in America
I'm feeling lost in America
No one really knows ya
When you're lost in America

East coast is gonna swallow ya, swallow ya
Midwest is gonna burn it down
West coast I'm gonna follow ya, follow ya
On my way to Kona Town

Lost in America
I'm feeling lost in America
No one really knows ya
When you're lost in America

I'm lost in America
I'm feeling lost in America
No one really knows ya
When you're lost in America

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California Girls - Lyrics - Collection - Beach Boys

Title: California Girls
Album: Collection
Artist: Beach Boys
Composer(s): Brian Wilson, Mike Love

Lyric:
Well, East coast girls are hip
I really dig those styles they wear
And the Southern girls with the way they talk
They knock me out when I'm down there

The Midwest farmer's daughters
They all make you feel alright
And the Northern girls with the way they kiss
They keep their boyfriends warm at night

I wish they all could be California
I wish they all could be California
I wish they all could be California girls

The West coast has the sunshine
And the girls all get so tanned
I dig a French bikini on Hawaii island
I'm lost by a palm tree in the sand

I been all around this great big world
And I've seen all kinds of girls
Yeah, but I couldn't wait to get back in the states
Back to the cutest girls in the world

I wish they all could be California
I wish they all could be California
I wish they all could be California girls

I wish they all could be California
I wish they all could be California
I wish they all could be California
I wish they all could be California girls

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California Girls - Lyrics - California Girl - Nancy Sinatra

Title: California Girls
Album: California Girl
Artist: Nancy Sinatra
Composer(s): Brian Wilson, Mike Love

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

Lyric:
Well, East coast girls are hip
I really dig those styles they wear
And the Southern girls with the way they talk
They knock me out when I'm down there

The Midwest farmer's daughters
They all make you feel alright
And the Northern girls with the way they kiss
They keep their boyfriends warm at night

I wish they all could be California
I wish they all could be California
I wish they all could be California girls

The West coast has the sunshine
And the girls all get so tanned
I dig a French bikini on Hawaii island
I'm lost by a palm tree in the sand

I been all around this great big world
And I've seen all kinds of girls
Yeah, but I couldn't wait to get back in the states
Back to the cutest girls in the world

I wish they all could be California
I wish they all could be California
I wish they all could be California girls

I wish they all could be California
I wish they all could be California
I wish they all could be California
I wish they all could be California girls

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8fa7720f4a655e66d59ea297bdba26fd

Never Trust A Pretty Face - Lyrics - Great White

Title: Never Trust A Pretty Face
Artist: Great White
Composer(s): Michael Lardie, Mark S Kendall, Alan Niven

Lyric:
You leave home 'cause it brings you down
No attention from a sleepy Midwest town
Make you way to the center stage
A spotlight makes it justifiable rage

It's reinvention as celebrity
Don't touch, just look at me
I say, oh no, never trust a pretty face
Oh no, never trust a pretty face

You said baby put your trust in me
When darkness fall I will always help you see
Stole the key from tomorrow's door
You had it all but you only wanted more

Sold your soul for the company
You went and took advantage of me
I say, oh no, never trust a pretty face
Oh no, never trust a pretty face
That's all

A silent face in a magazine
You learn to lie as you sell the world a dream
Listen now for the drop of a name
A steppin' stone on the stairway to fame

I only saw what I wanted to see
I let my heart make a fool outta me
I say, oh no, never trust a pretty face
Oh no, never trust a pretty face

Oh no, no, no, never trust a pretty face
Oh no, oh no, never trust a pretty face

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