You're not in business to be popular, It's become so much about personality, I would regard the theatre as the greatest of all art forms, The most immediate
getting what she wants She's a popular girl Setting those hearts on fire Everybody wants to be part of her world She's a popular girl She's a popular
[Tech N9ne:] To whom it may concern... [Chorus:] WHY YOU AIN'T CALL ME? You know I'm the hardest, you know that my art is applauded WHY YOU AIN'T CALL
And I leave ya spit clean, I dnt use no polisher Demolition man, tell your friends I demolish ya Plus I'm that nigga, baby I could make you popular So
nigga victimized or just willing no blinds, no bags, just dealing no foundation or floor plan, just building check it, nights bright but the daya??s dark covered in tattooa??s ,but hate art
way the heat is grave, fuck with face we bring war Either, you feel these bullets or the Texas chainsaw Not for popularity reasons, but for the love of the art
a knife Now watch me rock the spot like ? minus the heroin And make my face popular like Andy did to Marilyn Its kinda scary when real art gets left
watch me rock the spot like Basquiat, minus the heroin And make my face popular like Andy did to Marilyn. It's kinda scary when real art gets left behind
'ma polish ya And I leave ya spit clean, I don't use no polisher Demolition man, tell your friends I demolish ya Plus I'm that nigga, baby I could make you popular
to the third degree internally, avoid an away story 40 and slip of tongue, tryin to bring the poison noise Step in the spot like I'm not that popular
To whom it may concern (Why you ain't call me?) You know I'm the hardest, you know that my art is applauded (Why you ain't call me?) I'm not broken hearted
m a polish ya And I leave ya spit clean, I dnt use no polisher Demolition man, tell your friends I demolish ya Plus I'm that nigga, baby I could make you popular
themselves at dusk I want the world to stop (I want the world to stop) Give me the morning (Give me the afternoon, the night, the night) Towns' and cities' populations
How many races with much reason to weep And your children cry And you ask god why Annie, she came from Dunlavin Town The TB came and killed her family all around Population
all familiar with these, but a few years ago a motion picture versio Eared of sophocles' immortal tragedy oedipus rex. this picture played only in the so-called art
which has become in recent years the particularly fashionable form of idiocy among the self-styled intellectual. we find that people who deplore the level Rrent popular
heads on the blocks With locks and baggie jeans, the whole scene was fond to 'em And how we got the labels kissing our hind parts We desired art and never
popular culture I face the microphone and fumble in my pockets for a change A break from the deranged world of [Incomprehensible] Plotting out the death of art