there Turn it on when you are able Turn it on, turn it on and all the way up Turn it on in your houses when you wake up Turn it on when you ain't got
Translation: The Flaming Lips. Turn It On.
Turn it on when you are able [Chorus:] Turn it on Turn it on and all the way up Turn it on In your houses when you wake up Turn it on When you ain't
lips pokin' out, the coupe look like it's poutin' I do what I do and you do what you can do about it Bitch, I will turn a crack rock into a mountain
my lips tasting Scotch sitting upon my basin, remnants of the night before Came again infernal tapping on the door, in my mind jabbing Is it in or outside
took a life, you took it by the tail And you swirled it around your head And you thrashed it, you smashed the life out of it And you knew that would
bankroll, lets role Catch bodies like a cold, and I stay slick so face it Make me chase it, I take your life and erase it Waste it, in the fuckin' streets 'cause it
Verse1 Does she know What she did Turned me heart in to flames from that one time That she looked my way Does she know that sexy walk still on ma brain
for a fool She moved on quick, he still love it She's not having it, thinks he's some prick He don?t believe it, wants it just the way it was in school
, I, I wasn't very nice, I know, woo) Sugar, sugar, sugar, sugar Then I kissed your lips And you turned on (You turned on, you turned on) (You turned on
on and thumped on Scraped on the six-five with the hand on the pump song Don't even fuck with these Southland grandes We the vatos that run on Los Angeles
forgive me but I smell a gin On the lips of winos Sent a plaque turned 'em all into albinos With horns coming from their foreheads like rhinos Read it
pass get hot, from the take-off The blast turns glass into rocks At last my supreme task was to no longer walk on green grass Till I become a beam of
like Phat Farm fashion Simmons name synonymous wit this cash It's our passion, what? Yo basically I'm here to rename rap, it ain't rap no more Call it
a moan, "It's the cursed cold, it's got right hold 'til I'm chilled clean through to the bone. Yet tain't being dead, it's my awful dread of an icy grave
I perform better in hot water Yeah and my whip game straight On a bad day I could turn a two into a eight And when I smile, it look like a bag of coke
shadows of doubt on my face A midday sun, it's causing hues Refracting within the still lake I'm the green man The green man Autumn in her flaming
