do that, when nore lace the smooth track And I'm the one that gave stella her groove back The two mack, you see my peoples playin the cut We thugged out
long, bring the harm with no regrets, on my chest, let me knowledge be born on levels, wild, devil copters mark my every step When the riots form, my
h Freak out! Hit me! Slam it baby! Enter the jam. The party is packed and I rapped Girls wall to wall. There's my man hanging out at the back Till I
down I looked at Jill and she looked back Thinking it would be alright to go down Then the railings broke and the motors gave out The hall emptied out
, yup and it's my body The shirt I wear may be low cut My jeans fit nice, it shows off my butt Designer down from head to toe My hair, neck and fingers
junkfood especially wendy's No ad in no mag tells me what to wear Or for that matter what to do with my hair Not a hip house or hip hop just my kinda
got cash (ping) to much spend now you see me ridin' on candyred ben not by the hair on my chinny chin chin well you ever taste this nicca again (
you in a melody, I gotta set you to a groove I wanna put you in my car and drive And turn you up loud Roll down all the windows and shout it out I love
re the main man with the burgers . . . FZ: "And the burger's my trip." Phyllis: And the burger's my trip and is such a groove, I wanna show my appreciation
do that, when Nore lace the smooth track And I'm the one that gave Stella Her Groove Back The two mack, you see my peoples playin the cut We thugged out
studio in the morning And then we groove court for about two weeks And then we ah, we leave again Oh, really? Where do you play when you go from here
to me, baby Your hair, perfume you wear Brings back memories, oh, of you and me You look so fine, you blow my mind All over again, ooh So much has happened in my
all souled out Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah C.L.'ll get wreck in a millimeter sec Kirk out, all hands on deck Pick up the pen again
for the funk of it Like Fred Sanford in the business for the junk of it When I'm premitted to break down a poem I'm like knotty hair rippin out teeth
inside has got me doubting my mind And doing battle with phantoms again. In the form of some notes, I think a musical ghost Is digging dead melodies from my head. I should be out
{If you'd like to make a call Dial your operator If you need help, try, try again Try, try again} I got it started to my face I got it started to my
