you speak And if all you see is America's next freak Take me home, take me home, take me home This one's for America's teens And the beach boys rockin
down to the Park Hotel Past the Baptist Veteran's Mall Back then, a man in uniform Might mean anything at all Oh, pray for you, pray for me Sing it
re gonna die You who quote the legends You who poisoned all of my dreams You who pinned all of the medals on All those boys from Omaha Beach Hope you
feel like heaven But baby, we just look like hell Now act like you mean it where paradise was In the valley of the low, low sun Act like you mean it
Everything unplanned Same time, same place Soaking the sun rays Don't you forget my face In the summertime it's all good You know what I mean The boys
got a fetish for boys that's pushing them nice toys A fetish for dem boys that's fresher than altoids I got a thing for a dude in a fresh pair of Mauris
Where you at, where you at, where you at? Bring it back, bring it back, bring it back You the truth, you the one You're a star, yes you are The way
, I got engadged with buck shots that you can't stomach, You ain't a killer you a album filler, You ain't a soldier you a rap premoter, Game over...
on, me and you nigga And you, wha? And you, wha? And you, wha? Nigga I ain't scared of you bitches, I'll put yo' brain in stitches This remix for real
that nigga, nigga named M-o-e I represent that Southside, yeah the 3 hooked up with them boys off that Long Drive you know we stayin playa made, you know
beach in the sunlight We can do it anywhere that you like girl Long as you do it, and do it, all night [
We can do it on the beach in the sunlight We can do it anywhere that you like, girl Long as you do it, and do it, all night So how you like it, mama?
will he survive? Ooh, night of iguana The jasmine is so mercilessly sweet Ooh, night of iguana Can you hear the castanets? It's the widow and her lover boys down on the beach
Give me your love and I'll give you the perfect lovesong With a divine Beatles bass line and a big old Beach Boys sound I'll match you pound for pound
a brick figga You got my scratch, if you snitching you a trick figga Hit the pen, you probably gonna be a misfigga So here's a glock for your chest
You got my scratch, if you snitching you a trick figga Hit the pen, you probably gonna be a misfigga So here's a glock for your chest I mean your tits
for shit Got escape doors like capone Whit chick your dick on my clip Forty-fives and nives Three-eighties and automatics Sniveling, coming through for you When your boys
for takin' off Pile up the bird then swerve, conversate on smoke and submerge Finger on the trigger, cons-templatin' on a murder I mean, takin' life for