I'mma go off (I'mma go off) One more ride (ride) one more race (race) We go all out, we don't play One more ride, one more race We don't slow down, ain't no brakes I'mma go off (yeah) I'mma ride tonight (yeah) It don't matter what we face I gotta go now

I was shamed I'm ashamed Bell on the door ring, come on in Floyd observes my hairy chin Sit down in the chair don't be afraid Steamed hot towel around my face. Barney ties me to the chair I can't see I'm really scared Floyd breathes hard I hear a zip

There, along the road, was a tiny home The yard held dead machines behind its fences Like they were it's kids Broken down, but still worth a lot to someone It made me stop and grin Light from a dying moon It blurs our eyes And we wear a cape of fireflies

Dreaming of revelry What a night for a dance, you know I'm a dancing machine With the fire in my bones, and the sweet taste of kerosene I get lost in the light, so high don't wanna come down To face the loss of the good thing, that I have found In the

Me deh pon di go now Tell dem watch it ina traffic, Koffee nu slow down Ina mi zone Alto to Baritone Soon dem a go see seh is a queen deh pon di throne Me nu waste time with the music In yuh ears like any Q-Tip Used to Facetime with the Blues

You're five years dead Uptown downtown Haven't seen your face around Paper said you shot a man Trigger happy punk down in Chinatown Sexy Sue from Hong Kong Asked around right or wrong Outta town change your name Or ya get five years with a ball and chain

Broken heads in hospital beds Saving ends and pulling your friends While you're chasing the first line We made it tRhough He's black and blue and facedown She's rushing in your bed You take draws to sort your head facedown Then he said I lost my head Can

I ain't gonna get dressed up, just to be your clown Ain't gonna paint this pretty face, like you paint the town I ain't wastin' good mascara, just to watch it runnin' down I could spend an hour on my makeup and my hair Shoes to tall, dress to small, and

On the dead locs Yeah, aight, on the dead locs That's on the dead locs Blueface, baby, on the dead locs On the dead locs ooh, ooh Finna over bleed this, lil' baby On the dead locs on the dead loc I ain't turnin' down nothing I turn nothing into

Singin' hi, singin' hi, Ev'ry day I'm gonna strut that stuff. When the music's loud I can't get enough. Come on feet, teach yourself to move. People shuff'lin' up and down again. Unhappy faces ain't gonna get you in. Come on people, teach yourself to