it up, lit it up, I'm straight locin'. I'm hopin' that all y'all bustas got time to play. My nigga Tombstone, Krayzie Bone, swing around your way, your
you can't fade So raise up on this young hog 'Cause I heard you punkin some but you can't punk me dogg I got my own thang 'cause I let my beats swing
tell that! (The scene shifts to Motormouth Maybelle's record shop dance party where her daughter Li'l Inez and her friends are already in full swing
don't have to brag I need an adding machine to count up all the women I've ruined for other men Now compared to me Paul Bunyan is a screamin' fag I can shift
, the pendulum just swings Prisoners upon this rock, flying without wings Captured in a moment, still the hours chimed Joining closer as it shifted with
to my swing eye Every white bird, at the top of your voice This days tear, watch me run She never grows, faint in the try Distant and blurred to my swing
just what you are So play the misty, baby Get you into a river sky, Let your nature cry "I need another" Drift beyond the sleeping The moon is shift'
up the game, I'm givin' it a facelift New and improved, watch the way, I make the game shift Now watch me swing it out the ballpark I come to shut it
(Thompson/Madness) Up I rush off to work Hello Fred you look half dead and Are you coming are you going I could never do a double shift (Allo Fred get
As the light hits you As you shift along the floor I find it hard to place my face How did I come to be here, anyway? It's terribly vague, what's gone
run up, I'll sock your ass And watch that eye get swollen 'Cuz I'm playin' punk niggas like Beethoven So bust a cap or swing and die Fuck Yul Brynner
he ain't got no type of time He has no career move, I mean... Verse 1: I come home every single day from working double shifts And stop along the way
and suck my rated 50 are in these chromosomes hell Still these guns blaze on a ten hour swing shift Who I had thoroughly wanted to rip shit Grab the rags and towels and swing
out on the street like Henny and Juice, noose your neck and loosen your spine from back, shift your spleen, rip til it's just obscene, from down town swinging
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Aiyyo, check it This is how we swing this Big kid flavor So come on, honey, don't front So c'mon, honey, don't front Honey
is copper, it ain't worth the mic stands Used by backup singers in Atlantic City bands Niggaz look on and get hooked on this mic line Real thin and shift
stores to stack/ we burn O's find a whole to clap/ lately i've been on my eastcoast shit dealin with a florida rat/ be fucked if i swing that blammer/