't you set me free Won't you set me free Empty rooms are closing in on me I can't find my way out It's too hard, too hard to breath And still I want
and everything's going right And life has a funny way of helping you out when You think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up in your face A traffic jam
And it became a game they played, under the blankets In the bed, pretending she was small and he was big She became so small, he could lift her, body and heart and
funky beat has hold and we going on down to the A.M. for you and your friend, sounds here tough on the ear, You know that, coming at you so loud and clear
off young Teddy Pender is out Mask on scare the fuck out ya but ya ass grown I wasnt born with no silver spoon But I can heat it in a spoon and pitch
the precipice into the trickle down runoff pool They hypnotised the summer, 1979 Marched into the capital brooding duplicitous, wicked and able, media-ready, Heartless, and
C., and him over at Def Jam Well damn, how the hell you think we livin? How you think it feel to be a Simmons Imagine Christmas and Thanksgiving People
cold lost her sheep And Rip van Winkle fell the hell asleep And Alice chillin somewhere in Wonderland Jack's servin Jill a bucket in his hand And Jam
the kind of pudd'n Bill Cosby advertises Pull out your spoon, and let us begin But if you front on the pudd'd You might not get your spoon in
kind of pudd'n Bill Cosby advertises Pull out your spoon, and let us begin But if you front on the pudd'd You might not get your spoon in
and everything's goin' right, right And life has a funny way nobody helpin' you out when You think everyhing's gone wrong and everything blows up In your face A traffic jam
jam I give her the last spoonful, that's just the way I am And I drive her to work each day Even though it's early and work is far away And I don't
when the boozers close You'll get a belt from your dad You look so scruffy lying there Strawberry jam all through your hair Though in the world you haven't a care And
on jam I give her the last spoonful, that's just the way I am And I drive her to work each day Even though it's early and work is far away And I don t
on full, the sun is in the sky So you drop the top, it's time get out Kind of how it is when you kick eight bars And not rhyme once and still sound fly
who cried wolf and no one was convinced The man who hit lotto and lost his ticket In a rainstorm, and struck by lightnin' tryin' to get it And sometimes
