There wasn't an organ at our wedding The month was August instead of June On your pretty hand no golden wedding band You didn't even have a honeymoon
THERE WASN'T AN ORGAN AT OUR WEDDING (Leon Payne) « © '52 Acuff-Rose Music » There wasn't an organ at our wedding The month was August
Don't tell me that I'm fine. Always on top and leading the line. Calling the shots to stay ahead. Count me in I'm almost out. And in due time. And in
way in the world that you can deny my method As my record rotates,my words get more impressive I'm an M.C., Evil's my Dj on Sire Records not M.C.A. C
, I kill 'em and then I skin 'em, The contract was signed, but I am the addendum. So, where my dogs at? Randy? Matter fact, Get off my dick, bitch. Andy, c-c-c
body as you toss it up. I buck, the gauge erupt, disrupt your order. Infantry, y'all better expect annihilation, come around this devon c. I'm a soldier, organize
a liter. Where's your posse? Smack your fuckin' ho. I got your bitch on my dick Because I'm here for my cap down When steppin' through C-Town You better
" I just wanna stay humble and patient That's when stupid niggaz come at you with gay shit He look like Big, he sound like Big Yo, I'm B L A C K, nigga
(So uh, breaker breaker one nine) Course, it ain't no sunshine, it ain't no sunshine, It's like "Yeah, yeah, yeah (C'mon) Yeah, yeah, yeah (C'mon) Yeah
t settle for less Sheeit, I must be blessed, now check it out [W.C. and Coolio] Get on up on that funk And maybe you'll feel better (repeat 2X) [W.C.]
life in the fast lane (Pedal to the metal) Yeah, my whole goal as a poet's to be relaxed in orbit At war with a bottle, this Captain Morgan attacks my organs (C
(c) done, (c7) To (f) me, oh foolish foolish (c) pride, (c7) (f) you brought tears and sorrow (c) to, An (g7) untrue heart that never (c) cried. I (
when I was younger Now I'm much older, lyrical clap MC's If you don't know by now, let me aquaint you with my steez (C'mon) I don't get on stage and
look like hamburgers and frankfurters Aiyyo Royce Da 5'9" Feed on these motherfuckers homie, c'mon! [Royce Da 5'9"] Take him, gut him and take out his organs
eye's the guiding light Invite the fight, we all die tonight The life I lived, a twenty five to life bid Parole reneged, I stroll the globe fugitive Cream is short, C
Pete moss, suffocated beat box B-boys in detox, corrugated cardboard Lockheed lobbyists' floor debating 'Star Wars' Yeast and fungi, spring-tails ants and nematodes Sawdust yellow-cake, organics
I bust Or I thrust, Mid-Atlantic, they act like a schitzophrenic Sometimes they panic like I'm Diggin on a planet I don't gotta Beama or a Jetta? C-
[Black Thought] Uhh.. the molecular mass of that rhythmic ass grass is organic hip-hop jazz that you are all about to witness Groovy units check it owwwwt