Oh, pour me a slug of it Throw me a mug of it Bring me a jug of that Famous Ol' Spiced Many a year I have worked in these parts Running this inn that ain't marked on no charts Though its location to many is known If you're to find it you have to be shown

I'm grindin' for all my shit Nigga I'm grindin' for all my shit Grindin' for all my shit Yeah, I'm grindin' for all my shit I put time into all this shit I'm fucking every night up in my new house Grindin', grindin' 'Cause bitch I worked too hard for

"My father, came from Japan, in 1905 He was fifteen when he, immigrated from Japan He, he, he worked until he was able to buy To actually build a store" Let me tell you a story in the form of a dream I don't know why I have to tell it, but I know what it

Karen, take me to the nearest famous city middle where they hang the lights Where it's random and it's common versus common, la la la I'm really worked up I have weird memories of you I have weird memories of you wearing long red socks and red shoes I

And I know that I wasn't in the picture Tried to paint it, looking perfect And it never worked for the both of us I'mma let you know, now I'll let you go You should fly, for the first time in a long time Just fly, let you go, let you go Let you fly, for

It's my fifty mission cup I worked it in And I worked it in to look like that Won the Leafs the cup They didn't win another till nineteen sixty two The year he was discovered I worked it in to look like that It's his fifty mission cup And I worked it in

There's your trouble There's your trouble, there's your trouble You keep seeing double with the wrong one But you just keep holding on Should have all worked out But it didn't She should be here now But she isn't You can't see I love you, you can't see

I ain't leavin' without your love Under the downtown neon lights That's when you caught my eye You got me all worked up It's obvious we both know The night ain't long enough This goin' end tomorrow Tonight ain't long enough I'm old enough to know that

You gon' make me give up everything I worked for Make me give up everything I worked for Sunday, that's what they pray to church for Sunday, you ain't go to church though I still bless you, but you know what come first though You gon' get this Rollie off

Tudutudutudu, fuck you too Never miss a Sunday service, never got tattoos Every time we drive by wavin', I see right through Singin', oh sweet sounds of American you Man you got it all worked out, don't you, old pair of shoes Never wear your heart on