Baby's on fire O jirre god se jesus O jirre god se Jesus She got me going from She got me going fuckin crazy since Boom, boom boom It's show time, motherfucker, it's on Apocalypse now, I'm dropping this bomb You can't fuck with this song

Had to write a letter to my ma dukes (Ma dukes) I know you proud of me, but I'm proud, too (I'm proud, too) You the only woman I'd give some vows to (On God) I'm still your baby even though I got a child, too (Straight up) Yes, she got a Range Rover and

That’s the state of my, state of my, state of my head The only way I’m leavin’ is dead Oh, my eyes are seein’ red Double vision from the blood we’ve shed They don’t know, where we’ve been We got that concrete street skin Oh, our flag is tattered But it

And I'm ready, so ready Hot wax drippin' Honey what do you say I got a brand new record That I gotta play She says not now boy But I did anyway 'Cause I'm ready, so ready

I'm going to Brownsville, take that right hand road The girl I'm loving she's got great long curly hair Well, I'm going to Brownsville, take that right hand road And I ain't gonna stop walking till I get in sweet mama's door And her mama and her papa

Girl I got you so high, and I know you like, So come and push it on me, if it feels alright, When you drop it low, and break me off, No, she doesn't mind (aight) she doesn't mind (aight) she doesn't mind. No, she doesn't mind (aight) she doesn't mind

He got it, I want it I want a mistress for Christmas Mistress for Christmas Easy come, easy go They got it, I can't have it She got it, and I can't get it (For Christmas) You gotta send me down

Her world collapsed early Sunday morning Those creatures jumped the barricades She held the child and whispered With calm, calm, "belong" She got up from the kitchen table Folded the newspaper and silenced the radio And have headed for the sea, sea And

She’s been lonely and forgotten ever since But her beauty in the night light will remain Yeah will remain, dear Mary Jane A violet plucked from mother’s grave Oh hear Mary Jane Kelly So sad and singing sadly Ex-soldier Thomas Bowyer found you in the

I might just paint the Bentley mustard (skrr) I got rich, that's on my mother (yeah) Say she love you, still can't trust her (what, yeah, yeah) Cut the pork, drop the top, then I Speed Race it (skrrt) But my frames, they Dior, I can't see, baby (I can't