dispersed up in your shirt The streets is like a curse **** frontin' for a **** It's like you beggin' to die like bear huntin' with a switch A part of
I didn't sound like a hit Y'all didn't know what the fuck y'all thinkin bout You sound like a bitch (beotch!) Shit it sound like a wish, you know when
of my brain, fuck I can't have that They couldn't possibly understand the thoughts of a simple man Who's a simpleton, got a simple plan from a simple
lines to beat the band Still takes you longer to get anywhere Simple things so hard to understand It's gone beyond a joke I'm going out for a smoke
lost I might look like a girl, But I feel like a rapper Hesta hooks it up when she dresses like a flapper You can ask your friends, I'm a bit of a napper
had a confidence smile And a nervous cough and we got off She said it's good to see you back in a bar band, baby I said it's great to see you're still
high school dance Where the boys ignored the girls And we all pretended to like the band This shirt was a pillow for my head On a train through Italy This shirt was a
, so i dedicate this album to music, music is my savior...LETS DO THIS! Ever since my birth they thought i was cursed been through the worst but i found a
fate Cars are shooting by with no number plates And here comes Mrs.Hairy Legs I saw Elvis Presley walk out of a Seven Eleven And a woman gave birth to a
a penny and lenny chopped his dread locks. Late night, i listened to the tape box til the daylight come and i break off to find a girl so i could sing a
long stack higher than giraffe a**, I'm used to driving space-ships so I'm landing wrong. On some ugly sh*t, ET with a bandana on. Dolce book bag, Louie
So hard you left with a Permanent injury to your neck The turn of the century's way behind We raped the time when she gave birth To the First Born drafted
up the amp higher Hot as a campfire Caught me a vampire Postin' up my band flyers Thursday's with Dilligaf Gettin' drunk on Miller Draft Giggles had a
feet, from a band or a beat We would stand on the street, with our hands on our heat Twelve grams, twelve feet away, balled up in a sheet Of Reynold'
, the sinking earth and giant tress Through heavy air a demon shrieks What have I done, what hell is waiting for me? I crashed before the birth of Christ
land Gave birth to a group that's really happening Eli Stubbs and his Funky Grass Band The Funky Grass Band hits the stage a grinnin' their pickin' really
