guess i'm raps george best with a lot more cess a little more liquor and alot more sex Chorus sometimes we take it too far knocked out, sick on my guitar
Say, "You don't know me or recognize my face" Say, "You don't care who goes to that kind of place" Knee deep in the hoopla sinking in your fight Too many
unbelievable? Once you rule the world every girl will want to be with you First, I get the money, then I get the power B-Real of the hill eliminate the guitars
boy this old world may not last long Most everybody's doin' too much fighting and there's not enough singing going on How many people have you ever seen fight
one another? Hey hey hey now (oh) When will the people stop fightin' each other? Learning to give and help one another Hey hey hey now (aow) (Guitar
like another. Oh, you keep wasting my time, Honey, you running around all night long. Oh, you keep wasting my time, I say Honey, you running around all night. If I fight
ah fuck, what happened? They always told us that we sucked at rapping Well I don't know how to play a guitar I'll play the skin flute to be a radio star
whut Carnivals beyond the dead, whut Still attack you without my head, whut Scrubatism I'm about, whut Slappin' baywatch beauties in the mouth, whut I stomp ghosts that think they hard, whut Pickin' fights
you have 'em undress Some angel whore who can learn a guitar lick Hey, now that's what I call music Well, they'll come lookin' for money when the public gets bored But we'll fight
will fight All the songs that I will hear will just bring sadness to my ear Cause there'll be tears at the Grand Ole Opry tonight [ fiddle - guitar ]
tunes that she plays just ain't sellin' today This guitar is for sale. She lay close beside me on cold winter nights She's got me in trouble and she won me some fights
all the honeys But the thing I really love Is to get down with the band Not everybody loves me but those that do will fight Right to the end they're guitar
Well, my daddy left home when I was three And he didn't leave much to ma and me Just this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze Now, I don't blame him
't take but a little while to get your way Cause your pretty little lies she couldn't see behind And so it's long gone... [ guitar ] The man in me would like to fight
process i get nauseous cuz i can't see my death and its causes Pac he saw it around the corner but me not breathin is a pound of balogna I keep fightin
ground as you fall to your knees it's ashes to ashes your hopes and dreams are carried away like many before you ..it's your final hour [the guitar
about four G's Bottles in the club tryin' to get the home and skeez I'm tryin' to get the dame to breeze But she putting up a fight like Layla Ali I