the sweat drip off your chest Girl, you inspire my very best And I gave nothing less and it seems With every conversation in between I get a little
[INTRO:] Yo! If you can't dance, its cool to get up now yeah see usually, ya'll stand off at the side you know your a little embarressed or whateva',
don't have to be so hard More time with you less time for worry More slowing down less in a hurry So, we can sit down in the porch swing sip a little
need a little something, not just any old dame. I need a little lady, make my life less lame, 'cause the future's harder to say than M.I.A.'s last
end without a bungee [Wooo!] 'Cause life is a circus and the girls on Haight Street are way too funky [true!] Time to feel like a martyr, a satire, a
doubts that he even has a soul My secret pleasures have my inner demons gossiping I'm a ghost writer for the horrorcore lyrics my personal mosters sing I'm sitting in a
. So hold on just a little longer. At least through the night, at least 'til the morning. Hold on. Hold on to me. I can hardly stand - much less the
Conversations with my 13 year old self Conversations with my 13 year old self You're angry, I know this The world couldn't care less You're lonely, I
end-less-ly defined every day one exquisite fitted crisis rivets an octagon of red to the ceiling above my bed it's not a conversation piece, like public
! A little less conversation, a little more action, please All this aggravation ain't satisfactionin' me A little more bite, a little less bark A little
She said, "Baby, get me out of here" And right then I knew just where A little place not far away A little less than half a day behind the wheel So we
like a book with missing pages, a story incomplete It's like a painting left unfinished It feels like not enough to eat, starvin' You know these little conversations
no weed to smoke Hard times got me whinin, conversation and kickin' it Hooked up with a little Cryst' now I'm back on my pimpin' Thinkin' up a fuckin
the heart it breaks, and drips, drops, falls. And for the orphan whose little black shoes leave tracks, teeth scars and ultra-violet skin. I watch this conversation
Now-a-days they like papi on some frontin shit Fuck noreaga, now I'm melvin flynt Yo the hustler, I ain't a player, I'm just a hustler (damn) niggas
A little less conversation, a little more action please All this aggravation ain't satisfactioning me A little more bite and a little less bark A little
feels like a safe place, but it ain't. Feels like it safety seals fates, but it don't. He's not a real saint. Just another one of those religious,
a funeral for that big part of me that died. i need to put these thoughts to rest. i need to find a peace of mind. i need to piece my mind, find a piece