coalition of daaaancing Whoaaaaaoaaaaaoh ! Everyone was wearing fingerless gloves Whoaaaaaoaaaaaoh ! I saw a Spanish guy doing the Bartman [The Lonely Island] Transport now to an old folks
Well, he was the Sax Man from the state of Tennessee First set in with the band at the ripe old age of three, weeks old And when he blew into that horn
the cia! need a country to stabilize? look no further, we're your guys! we've got snazzy suits and ties, and a better damn old plan than the fbi! better
Pigeons are such reprehensible things Some critics, I'm told, call them rodents with wings They terrorize folks with their constant dive-bombing
calls Please stick to the seven-digit numbers you're used to I know that you think it's funny drivin' folks right up the wall But it's really gettin' old
home and kissed his mommy goodbye Sayin', "Soon I'm gonna be a Jedi, soon I'm gonna be a Jedi" Did you know this junkyard slave Isn't even old enough
in harmony, harmony, then i would teach the world (whole wide world) to be a thugsta just like me. [repeat] (Krayzie): How many more day's on this old
my street sense from these muthafuckin streets, bitch And I'm comin real, cause I ain't fuckin with that weak shit Pass me the joint and let me kick it for the old folks
'm punchin' the clock No need for screamin' at me momma, I'm out And plus I wasn't really happy here to start with, let that be told My old homeboy was
before I leaped I didn't know it was so deep Been down so far I don't get wet Haven't touched the bottom yet This river scene is gettin' old I'm hungry
that - that This - this is some - ehm What we gon' call this one here? Fuck it Let's call it - ehm Some - some Some old school Scarface freestylin Yeah
do bids, and most done died My neighborhood is like a ghost town Would hype some trash The BGs got the hood hot With whites and rats The old folks is
and forth Let's do it, what you wanna hear? I wanna hear some of that ol' that, ol' dear diary (Dear diary) Mr, Mr. Scarface, some of that old shit,
at the ball game, She said I had it I'm breakin' up with you Come along bout a monday morning. She said she'd changed her mine. I'm still that same old
man with no accomplishments No whip, no job, no credit Me and you is like old timers, forget it If you was my sugar, I'd be diabetic Ya game like an old
loose gets bust down I don't like stogs spoke, (a ah) play the vote for the honeys and got money selling dope to the old folks (yes) Turning robbery,