Don't hang your head, so the wise man said, or boy you'll soon be dead You better run, run Manuela-uela run (Gonna shoot you in the back with your own gun) You better run, run Manuela run Don't look now, you better watch that sword that's hanging over

And you pull my hips so close; volume goes with the truth When I'm home alone, I just dance by myself The kid was all right but it went to his head Signing off "I'm all right in bed, but I'm better with a pen." I'm all right in bed, but I'm better with a

I was busy dreaming 'bout boys Head is spinning thinking 'bout boys I was busy thinking 'bout boys I want 'em all Didn't hit 'em back I'm sorry that I missed your party I wish I had a better excuse like Don't be mad, don't be mad at me (no, no, no, no)

Save your breath for the better things. Tell it to someone who cares. I Didn't pay money to hear you complain. I just came to get my buzz on. I Just wanna party all night. So who will join me at the nearest bar? I Don't believe any lyrics people seem to

Cold cold cold cold feet There was a little boy once upon a time Who in spite of his young age and small size knew his mind For every copper penny and clover he would find Make a wish for better days the end of hard times For no more cold feet His

If I were a boy I think I could understand How it feels to love a girl I swear I'd be a better man I'd listen to her 'Cause I know how it hurts When you lose the one you wanted 'Cause he's taken you for granted And everything you had got destroyed

I'm gonna change you like a remix Then I'll raise you like a phoenix Put on your war paint Hey young blood, doesn't it feel like our time is running out? Wearing our vintage misery No, I think it looked a little better on me The war is won, before it's

You better slow down When I was a young boy Well they tried to tell me That I was movin' Movin' way too fast And I knew everything About everything But I really didn't wanna listen To a bunch of old folks talkin' trash

You ain't going nowhere. Where you going, where you tryna go Baby, baby? Boy, you better listen to the words I say Boy, you better act like you got some sense, 'Cause you got a dime, and that's money well spent. Sit yourself down, 'cause you know you're

Don't make me go pop the trunk, on you Think he's playin'? You better listen what he's sayin punk He got an old Mossberg in the mossy oak duffle bag layin' in the back of the dunk boy Meth lab in the back and the crack smoke pills through the streets