She couldn't make it on her own! She had to get a pimp, She had to get the pimp, She couldn't make it on her own! (What about me?) What about me? She couldn't make it on her own! ("Bangladesh!") California air! Chain all blue like it's runnin' out of

You cross that line, boy and there ain't no comin' back I'm a crazy train, son, and you caught up in the tracks You've got me growlin' like a pit bull, brother I'm about to lock my jaws I'm a time bomb tickin' a real live wire Boy a shot in the dark, I'm

Go straight to hell, boys There ain't no need for ya Straight to hell Go straight to hell boys Oh Papa-san If you can play on the fiddle How's about a British jig and reel? Speaking King's English in quotation As railhead towns feel the steel mills rust

You're the best thing about me Why am I walking away? The best things are easy to destroy The best thing that ever happened a boy I'm the kind of trouble that you enjoy Walking away When you look so good, the pain in your face doesn't show When you look

This story is about love The woman I loved is dead There was a boy A very strange enchanted boy They say he wandered very far Very far over land and sea A little shy and sad of eye But very wise, was he And then one day

It's all about us And that's real But I promise, if we stick together we gon' make it through anything We're too special for the world Dodging bullets, we're in trouble in times And mama always taught me as a boy To help ya brother if he's fallin' at

You're just the last of the real ones (You're just the last of the real ones) 'Cause you're the last of a dying breed Write our names in the wet concrete I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me I'm here in search of your glory There's been a

Now everybody they lookin' at me, now they lookin' at me Smokin' and stackin' and countin' up green I think I need me a money machine I heard some fuckboys are plottin' on me Waist 32, .40 tucked in my jeans Won't forget when no one cared about me

Detox just to retox So boycott love Nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy And I'd promise you anything for another shot at life Imperfect boys With their perfect ploys Doc, there's a hole where something was. What a match, I'm coming apart at the

Little boys and girls, they all love me Come sit on the lap of I-see-E And let me tell ya a story or two About a punk-ass nigga I knew Named Jack, he wasn't that nimble, wasn't that quick Jumped over the candlestick and burnt his dick Ran up the street