Won't you do this thing for me Ain't got no car Won't you bury my papa for me Oh Mister Banker please Mister Banker Mister please, how much does money mean Won't you reconsider Mister Ain't got no house All I got, lord, is my guitar

They're waiting for the sun to go down You've got bones in your closet You've got ghosts in your town Ain't no doubt, dear, They're gonna come out You can't hide from your demons Feel them all lurking around You're runnin' scared cause You know they're

'Cause ain't nobody takin' my baby I don't care about an argument I'll still be here tomorrow I gotta room up in the city, we can play finish the bottle I'll pour you up, we'll work on us I wanna be clear, I'm stayin' right here Your heart weighs a ton

Now don't you even act like you don't wanna get up You better get out on the dancefloor show me what you got 'Cause I don't even want too much just for y'all to understand A party ain't a party if I'm not in the party So I need to see some hands All I

I just got the fuck off a plane 6 car garage, I got more than 1 job Be a boss, go hard Wake up, smelling kush when I yawn Shorty wanna fuck with the king, tired of them pawns Ain't on the top? Well, that's nonsense Bank account full of G's, so that's all

But I ain't got no one sleepin' with me Maybe I love you Maybe I'm just kind of bored It is what it is And you ain't got nowhere that you need to be I think were thinking to hard To put on your shoes and get in your car

How many times I gotta tell that ass to come over? I'll fuck you right, have you walking from side to side How many times? Pour a cup for the bitches that ain't scared to get down Get down, get down How many times I gotta? Light another for the bitches

But I ain't got no one sleepin' with me Maybe I love you Maybe I'm just kind of bored It is what it is And you ain't got nowhere that you need to be I think were thinking to hard To put on your shoes and get in your car

Gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, They gave him ten for two Gotta, gotta, gotta set him free In the stir for breathing air What else can the judges do? It ain't fair, John Sinclair Won't you care for John Sinclair? Let him be, set him free Let him be like you

Oh, how you doin'? I'm alright Man turn this shit up, man Ay Cardi, you got somethin' to say? You got somethin' to say, talk to 'em Now how much times do I gotta prove these niggas wrong? And how much times I gotta show these bitches I ain't soft? How