I just cut my hair, I got new shoes, I got my time I sing the blues. I got no pokets, But I got a muse And I got a bag for what I use. It's going to
Instrumental
翻訳: U2. レスキューミーラヴ - （メンフィスホーンズとボブディラン付）.
The stone that the builder refuse Will always be the head cornerstone-a; sing it brother The stone that the builder refuse Will always be the head cornerstone
: The stone that the builder refuse Will always be the head cornerstone-a; sing it brother The stone that the builder refuse Will always be the head
The stone that the builder refuse Will always be the head cornerstone-a; The stone that the builder refuse Will always be the head cornerstone. You
used to sit In the government yard in Trenchtown And then Georgie would make the fire light Log wood burnin' through the night Then we would cook corn
, let them wear it! Throw me corn, me no call no fowl; A-saying: "Cook-cook-cook, cluk-cluk-cluk." ... : "Cook-cook-cook, cluk-cluk-cluk." Throw me corn
, let them wear it! Throw me corn, me no call no fowl; A-saying: "cook-cook-cook, cluk-cluk-cluk." ... : "cook-cook-cook, cluk-cluk-cluk." Throw me corn
were lucky and then we'd play cards. We didn't have any signals 'cause we didn't need any. Nobody had any cars. That's right! And on the corner, on particular corners
shoot Mac take ya "Juice" like Bishop on the roof I had ya pissin' in ya trunk like a roof Bullets hit ya chest like a blunt rolled loose I'm that corn
We ain't playin' witcha I'm from the home of the neck bones Black eyed peas, turnip and collard greens We the children on the corn Dirtier than Bob Marley
workin What's that? Pre-paid, from J&J And your voice mail is off, cause I called you So you're extravagant, think you all that There's some corn flakes
Mac take ya "Juice" like Bishop on the roof I had ya pissing in ya trunk like a roof Bullets hit ya chest like a blunt rolled loose I'm that corn liquor
can you help me? a nigga need a job i?m desperate, for some corn on the cob i?m helpless, will i have to steal and rob? no black? dinner so i got to ask bob bob
nutbush city limits. Little old town, Down in tennessee. A real quiet community, A real quiet southern community. Not much happens in nutbush; You can hear the corn
are gonna bless you Always some commotion at the corner store That the corner cops chose to ignore Everybody write tune to a different song When they pass by I bob
Wheaties was a former wide out There were ninety-nine cereals, I ate every one That story is over, but my rhyme ain't done I met this kid named Bob
