Western Branch Diesel Charleston Wv
I′m from where you better get ya' guap up. Mark said, I have an idea. I'm from where you better keep a thumpa Better get ya bitch fo she get bumped upCuz it's some niggas in the building with a lump sumBout a bag super turnt upDesigner got me lookin like a come upAnd you're looking li…. Better keep it on you. And no one knows but me and you: the storm is all inside me. Her reasons for waking up screaming would be different from his, and possibly darker. You can't make this stuff up, sometimes.
He still in Vegas with the bros. Loading up that thing, still smoking dope. I had a wishlist of six songs on which I wanted all of them (we ended up with five). Look at these diamonds like Sonny Liston. Aerosmith - Another Last Goodbye. Maybe I was dreaming of a youth I'd misplaced, remembered not regretted, it never came true, maybe I was dreaming of my own place in the future, maybe I was simply dreaming about you... My explanation was one of the first times I'd mentioned Nicky's name willingly in a few years.
Even if you're more intelligent than he is, never let on - you'll bruise his ego. A couple of years ago, I came across a youtube video of David at a festival somewhere, playing a baglama saz. 47's question me, what I do. I hope God forgives me for my sins. We come from the same district, Speak the same language and knock the same bitches. "Holding Down the Game Lyrics. " A red-wing hawk is circling, the blacktop stretches out for days, how could I get so close to you, and still feel so far away? Maybe it's time we did some listening.
For the next little while, we stood out there together. The scars were earned. If I pursue you, click clack booya, we sing hallelujah. Fuck it, I might land in Bermuda.
Half a century later, that's still my definition of storytelling. Just called them thangs up, they begging, "Bro, don't shoot him". The instruments were tracked at Groove Room. However you want it. Bone thugs top droppin. InterludeRowdy Rebel. In the city of the goals. When you got money it come with the power. We've let it drift back to a lot closer to its original tap root when we play it live or in band practice. It didn't hurt that Nic and Larry both lit up, and found parts with that same sense of uplift, with no hesitation beyond the inevitable fine tuning. On the road smoking hella dope, bro.
I don't write many happy songs (does anyone? ) RIP my nigga, Pluto. I can′t miss, Black-Ops [? Hoes in the lobby bitch. Behind computers, all you do is run your mouth nigga. Fake trappers selling that work in insta grams. All the mic geeks reading this just made noise. ) The vocal harmonies on this are entirely me, singing a high part with myself.
Have yo head all off up in da sky. More on the full story about that Rogue when we get to the eleventh song. I wanted David Lindley on this, even if he played on nothing else. It was a group effort, he and the band and Vadim Canby engineering, but of every suggestion Mark made about where TMOTS should go, I think three didn't get used, and at least one of those was because we ran out of time to have my Angel Choir in the same place at the same time. It's been going on for thousands of years. But that is not going to keep either of us, both us, from giving him the finger. I'd written books instead, several of them, even before that need, to look at the long dead memories, picked up the creative whip and spurred me to write the Kinkaids. I say Time is a thief. " You know, you know, that old shit, man. Or got with a balla that spit to the rhythm like this. U ain't neva rode in a Bentley lookin like this.
When the song kicks into the body of it, the lyric takes over. I had a sense of loss, of something that had somehow passed me by, something I'd missed. I can't miss, Black Ops accurate. Just me and Big Bro, Citi. Lame niggas, We gon' strangle them and then we hang them. Now I know just how to treat 'em, cause I need 'em. I emailed David ("speak to me of that saz you're playing... ").