Oh, down beside your red firelight Fat bottomed girls, you make the rockin' world go 'round Are you gonna let it all hang out? Fat bottomed girls Okay, okay! This is called, uh Fat Bottomed Girls! (One, two, three, four!) Are you gonna take me home

To the ground where you left my heart to bleed Your goin' down down down boy Five, four, three, two, one Bang! Bang! Bang! Boy! Your goin' down, down, down, boy Bang! she shot you. Karma tastes so sweet Karma tastes so bang bang bang boy Bang! she shot

There he goes... One, two, one, two, three, four... Know a man...his face seemed pulled and tense... Like he's riding on a motorbike in the strongest winds... So I approach with tact...suggest that he should relax... But he's always movin' much too

They say they ready for whatever! One for the money, two for the show They say they ready for whatever Three for them hoes saying anything goes I been around the world, twice to be exact Six bad bitches and they lapped up in the back And you know it

The fundamental loneliness goes whenever two can dream a dream When I saw you first, the time was half past three When your eyes met mine it was eternity By now we know the wave is on it's way to be So close your eyes For that's a lovely way to be Aware

Check one two three This is Benny on the dispatch. Yo! Atención, yo, attention! It’s Benny, and I’d like to mention I’m on the microphone this mornin’ Honk ya horn if you want it! Okay, we got traffic on the west side Get off at 79th, and take the left

F-R-I-E-N-D-S Want me to spell it out for you? Ooh ooh, ooh ooh You can't be reasoned with, I'm done being polite I've told you one, two, three, four, five, six thousand times Haven't I made it obvious? Don't mess it up, talking that shit Only gonna push

It goes one for the money, two for the dough All you got is three niggas kicking at your door, ha ha Here come the paramedics, here come the paramedics Game and the snowman, one hundred miles and gunning Hey, here come the paramedics, here come the

Two thousand and seventy three , two thousand and eighty four , two thousand and ninety three , light years ahead you and me gone be getting down on a space bed.....we gone get married in june....we gonna be getting down on the moon, light years

Half empty plane on New Years Eve The pilot comes on, says the year is almost gone Five, four, three, two, one Looks like it's just me and the whiskey You ain't here to kiss me Five dollar drink and a lonely window seat Love birds in the row in front of