life trying to make it square condition And self sit still And Still.. where have all the sheep gone Burnt down the farm and turned the TV on John Coltrine
up a deal over blunt fire Bum niggaz sleepin on the bench, they had em wired Peeped my convo, the address of my condo And how I changed a nigga name to john
There were three farmers in the north, as they were passing by they swore an oath so mighty oh that Barleycorn should die one of them said: drown him
supper's on the stove but it's the light in your eyes that makes him warm. Chorus: Hey, it's good to be back home again Sometimes this old farm feels
want to do Wherever you want to go it's up to you And wouldn't it be fine Following your heart, playing your own part You and me out on a farm, let the
sky Well, I guess there were some hard times and I'm told some years were lean They had a storm in '47 twister came and stripped 'em clean He lost the farm
Well life on the farm is kinda laid back Aint much an old country boy like me cant hack Its early to rise, early in the sack Thank God Im a country boy
brave And made that grin and call And when the Bears' Vincent Woody Paced the sidelines and coached football When John, George and Martin walked around (I saw the time) When John
Oh, John Dillon James was my good time country buddy Well, we hunted, talked and fished his last days away He was just a hired farm hand, worked old
Now he was a wino tried and true Done about everything there is to do He worked on freighters and he worked in bars He worked on farms and he worked on
I was born about eight miles from the City of Dope Meanin my city is the City of Dope weigh the coke, caddy spokes it couldnt be saveed by John the Pope
-ah-ooh, oh, oh, oh, oh I've been a lot of places, seen a lot of faces Ah hell I even fucked with different races A white dude his name was John He had
abstract that freaky nigger Now, I'm Ad Rock and I shock and I tick and I tock And I can't stop with the body rock See I've got heart like John Starks
Pittsburgh still The family farm down in Indiana The bank's foreclosin' just because they can And the farmer can't do nothin' 'bout another drought Sir John
proof Till I put to your head give it a sunroof Good God, my whole squad hard And bank accounts is large Puff Chron--ic (*couching*) Stay in Phat Farm and Sean John
Down here on the farm the weather gets messy laying around with nothing to do When you went away you took my cow Bessie I miss her darling more than I
Billyhilly, he's the King of the hill billhilly He hits the sour mash swill billhilly He made it off the farm He's kickin' up dirt out on the loose He
Old John Brown left Kansas before the blood had dried And as he rode his head did shine like the sun in mid-July. In a tiny farm house by Brunswick piano