, twenty Brothers lay in a bottle, thirty fly right by double time and shit Next, I?m hittin?, so I can step sooner On the nova, so no water goes south
2:33 Trk 4 (Quezerque Gaines) Professor Longhair (vocal & piano) Recorded: by Joe Ruffino 1964 - Cosimo Matassa's Studio Musicians: S. Johnson - drums
is water glock, aces on cameras sniffin' raw Why try to fuck with these lecturers? I'm so high powered, my electrical structure blew down the floor
on an internet porn page, fornicate make her gag What's the damage for the neighbor tagged by the amateur? Water blast erase the trace of the canisters Water
As I'm peepin 'cross the border leapin' water keepin' order Lit it up like a spliff, get a whiff of this hit 'Cuz I flick 'em like bits and I bust 'em like zits Dippin' down
an' order but I stick it in water Many heads got slaughtered back in Latin Quarters Like this brother named Rick was thick but got bit By the same motherfucker
nigga Niggaz need to bow the fuck down and pay homage nigga Niggaz been stealin our shit for years 40! Niggaz brave to talk around these motherfuckers, WATER
idle race And they said 'store it in a cool dry place' I got guitar, basses, amplifiers and drums Accordions and mandolis and things that sometimes hum Cymbals and harmonicas, capos by
Drivin' in the walkin' rain Let's go, let's go Stream down my windowpane Thru the fields, where does all the water go? Stirring in my sleeping bag There
tears of the crocodile water the sun By the time you make up your mind If ever you do I hear the drums of heaven too By the time you make up your mind
Lay down your weary tune, lay down Lay down the song you strum And rest yourself 'neath the strength of strings No voice can hope to hum Struck by the
have been strange; living in blue and see me shut down as though it was an easy thing to do But you could tell where I had been by the way I held
Whereas break beats have been the missing link Connecting the Diasporic community to its drum woven past Whereas the quantized drum has allowed the whirling
crowds Take orders, we need passports at the border Transport the water, sheerest corner Fell sick to be hit, but we wasn't the cure Make your ear-drums
by Come sit down beside me and hear my sad story Got shot in the breast and I know I must die Go fetch me some water a cool cup of water To cool my hot
cocking back Silly motherfucker you ain't heard bout this The clip sink down to the dick That's a automatic shotty from a drum they call Tommy Guaranteed to get you bitches from by
We had some fire and smoke and water And that troubled us a lot Now we're marking down our prices And they're really, really hot Everything must go You
smoke shack was beat on by drum back stack The beetles were baffled, by the state of bondage Showin love like Pocahontas savin John Smith Convinced by