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ARETHA FRANKLIN lyrics - Lady Soul

Niki Hoeky

Original and similar lyrics
Down in Louisiana Down in Cajun land Folks got something goin' Something like Folks come an git'cha tootsie I wants to t'tie ya puppe'tame me Gonna dig ya on a scoobydoo Gonna gitcha on'a scubadie Ooh boog-a-boo you You ooh boog-a-boo you, little boy Get hip to the consultation of the boolawee Umm hmm, umm Said, golly, golly miss Molly Everything is copesetic now Boog-a-boo, hey look at you What I'd like to do to you boy Ooh boog-a-boo you You ooh boog-a-boo you, little boy Get hip to the consultation of the boolawee Umm hmm, hmm Niki, Niki, Niki Hoeky Your pappy's doing time in the pokey Your sisters on a trip Your momma got hip Little boy you're lookin' ok You ooh boog-a-boo you You ooh boog-a-boo you, little boy Get hip to the consultation of the boolawee I'm talking bout your boola Talking bout that wee I'm talking bout your boola Talking bout that wee Well get hip to the consultation of the boolawee Niki, Niki, Niki Niki, Niki, Niki Niki, Niki, Niki Niki, Niki, Niki Hoeky Niki Hoeky

Bully

JARREN BENTON "My Grandma's Basement"
[Verse 1: Vinnie Paz] Your liver taste exquisite with Chianti, The uppercut is so vicious that it could lift a donkey, I pop pills and cop kill, the visions haunt me, Kill him, then bring him back to life and forgive a zombie, Blow the shotty up and hit him in the prison lobby, The closest thing you got to pussy is doing bitches' laundry, Youz a sucker, motherfucker, and that should alarm me, You ain't carrying hammers, you a fictitious army, Y'all make Drake look hard bodied, that should appall me, And my money astronomical like Dennis Garvey, Unless you want your fuckin' head shattered, get up off me, I'm about to break fool on you, catcher, harm me, Pull the motherfuckin' biscuit out catch a body, Italian luxury and I ain't talking Maserati, The fish hit you dead in the chest, a kamikaze, The flying monkey gets Ozbourne like I was Ozzy, [Laughing] Boxcutter Pazzy! Yo, Mr. Benton, Kato, what up?! [Verse 2: Jarren Benton] All I need is one mic, three syringes and two rocks, I rap like I got Pac's dead corpse in a shoe box, I'm a retard, Jarren stay on that stupid shit, So disrespectful, I slapped Christ off his crucifix, I go to your funeral, punch the eulogist, Papa used to tell me that rapping ain't fuckin' lucrative, That's foolishness dad, you sound ludicrous, Fuck your opinion, goddamn it, we 'bout to do this shit, Boxcutter hooligan, Look what this blade would do to him, Fuck a fifth of Henny, I could chug a whole pool of gin, Kill him, then I stand over his body, then I shoot again, Fuck coke, get high off the pesticides of fuel again, I'm an animal, I grew up in the pits of hell, I'm strong enough to punch through the ocean and fucking kill a whale, Scalpels and all sorts of assortments, Bitch, I'm a pimp, I can sell shit to a toilet, So scram with your faggot ass, Don't make me let the semi blast, Fuck a gun, don't make me pop the trunk and pull out Vinnie Paz, Y'all some homos, rappers talking 'bout finny bags, Keep the conversation brief but we ain't talking clinic ash, Just read a shitty comment, now my day is ruined, You 'bout as gay as a B2K reunion, I'm an innovator, give a shit what they were doin', Rotting flesh pollutes my back yard, so now my neighbors movin', Adidas on my feet, it's never Reeboks, Hop says he dropping his album right after Detox, I'm into bestiality, getting head from an ewok, You niggas got it fucked up like a Blood trying to C-Walk, I throw you off a tree top, in a Chevy bumping P-Rock, Bitch, I'm off the wall just like fucked up Sheetrock, Doctor Lecter, I eat you rappers, get ethered, Finish it since Papa skeeted me out his urethra. Bitch!

Hell You Talmbout

JANELLE MONÁE "The Electric Lady"
[Refrain:] Baby, ooh Baby, ooh Baby, ooh Baby, ohh [Verse 1:] Bombs on the floor Smoke in the mirror Girls get their hair done In electric jungles Drunk man comes Stopping the limo He said he got a gun But we keep on jamming on Red, white, and blue Here come the sirens Only to dance With the little girls on the corner There's a war in the streets Nobody speaks And now a boy laying on the ground [Chorus:] Now what the hell Hell you talking 'bout? Now what the hell Hell you talking 'bout? [Verse 2:] Coca leaf From Indone' Travels down To ghetto streets, right to ya' hand Hooking kids Hooking mothers To get you high You're stealing from your brother's friends The poor man eats Off of rich men's dollars The dope man, looking cool He pullin' girls on the regular But now he's in jail for life Taxman dollars Oh! [Chorus] [Refrain] [Verse 3:] Staying after school Cause you wanna go to college The burgers ain't paying off And you be cussin' while you're cooking 'em But still you bop And push that mop And dream about The day you're finally free at last Across the street Limping lovers Drinking summer fun Snake eyes are gonna roll We're laughing together right Right when the shooting comes Baby what the hell you talking 'bout [Chorus] [Refrain]

My Man

ANGIE STONE "Stone Love"
My morning night and noon My very I'll be back soon My star up in the sky My I just call to say hi My world you want to eat now My baby come rub my feet My girls, you understand I'm talking about my man, who [1] - Takes me higher, loves me better Holds me closer, my man I'm talking 'bout my man Rocks me gently, kiss me plenty Holds me closer, my man I'm talking 'bout my man He puts a smile on my face He knows everything that I like He got me open I love him, I need him believe in, trust in his heart My intelligent thug My necessary hug My I apologize My I'm sorry, you was right My I'm gonna give you more My what you want from the store My girls, you understand I'm talking 'bout my man [Repeat 1] [Floetry] I'm representin' cuz with themin' is where I belong I'm implementin' cuz he motivates and make me zone [Angie] Leave me oh, picture that cha'll [Angie] Let's keep it real and matter fact cha'll [Floetry] Before you think about *ish Don't you give me wrong It's all about the love, the love we be about is strong [Both] Test me, oh never doubt cha'll Cuz it's a feel good man that I got, cha'll [Repeat 1] He lets me be myself Makes me feel good inside I can't fight what it is I want to have his kiss Tell him I lovin' him only, my only love You know he has my heart He is my shinning star My girls, they understand I'm talking about my man Through and through (He's the truth) He cares about me (Knows what to do) Kisses (Kiss him), his love is (Blissfull) He's sincerely mine (I'll give him) What he needs (When he needs me) I'm believing (I'm so grateful) That I got him, (That he got me) And I know he loves me [Repeat 1] [Ad lib until fade]

Coastal Confessions

JIMMY BUFFETT "License To Chill"
Well I'm a tidal pool explorer From the days of my misspent youth. I believe that down on the beach Where the sea gulls preach Is where the Chinese buried the truth. So I dig in the sand with my misguided hands and if I dig deep enough Hell I just might dig it up. Talking about treasure Talking about pleasure Talking about love Now I'm a reader of the night sky And a singer of inordinate tunes. That's how I float across time Living way past my prime Like a long lost baby's balloon. So I hang on to the string Work that whole gravity thing But when my space ship goes pop Back to the earth I will drop Into the sea Or the limbs of a tree Or the wings of my love And I don't know what I'm supposed to do Maybe invent me a story or two I've got coastal confessions to make How bout you How bout you They say that time is like a river And stories are the key to the past But now I'm stuck in between Here at my typing machine Trying to come up with some words that will last. It's so easy to see that we live history And if I just find the beat I know I land on my feet I always do Hadn't got a clue Does it comes from above. And I don't know what I'm supposed to do Maybe invent me a story or two I've got coastal confessions to make How bout you How bout you Let's go to church, Sonny... [Bridge] So bless me father, yes I have sinned. Given the chance I'll probably do it again I don't need absolution Just a simple solution will do. So let's talk about the future Or the consequences of my past I've got scars, I've got lines I'm not hard to define Just an altar boy coverin' his ass. I know I can't run and hide But just hang on for the ride There will be laughter and tears As we progress through the years But still it's fun Hey I'm not done Gonna dance 'til I fall And I don't know what I'm supposed to do Maybe have me a boat drink or two It's just the coastal confessions I hear Tell the truth Tell the truth I've got some coastal confessions to make How 'bout you, how 'bout you, how 'bout you, how 'bout you And you, and you, and you 42 years since my last confession Well father, do you have the rest of the week? Let's get started I had impure thoughts I smoked some pot Stole some peanut butter Father, wake up.

Love Me No More

JIM JONES
[Chorus:] Now how u gon’ tell me you don’t love me no more (How you gon’ tell me that?) Cuz I’m out here getting this bread (You hatin on this paper chase?) Tryna get my Momma a crib (Shit don’t even sound right) Tryna get up out the ghetto Now how the Hood talkin bout they don’t need me no more (What’chu want me stuck in the ghetto, listen imma get out) Cuz a motherfucka push that GT (Then you what, Imma come back for the niggas need to be reached for) It’s a problem tryna take that from me (You niggas is slippin) Cuz im packin heavy metal uhhuh I hear the streets talking funny (shit) So I laugh (haha) tell em keep talking funny (keep talking funny) Imma keep talking money (yup) And all different types (what) The yens and the pounds (pounds) Nigga just for spite push, the Bentley round town (sparrows) Tripin’ in ice I still be up town (Harlem) I hear em kicking up dirt on my name (so what) But I could clean em up like detergent on a stain Or ill beam em up we got birdies on the chain (easy) Respect my mind or respect my grind (cause what) Gone to the bank when its cheque signing time (okay) Its Tito Borough when it’s jet flying time (clear-port) And we so thorough we the set fly or die (Dip Set) The bitches funny I’m talking bout life (yup) It was Sunday to Sunday on New York’s chilly nights (that’s right) And we was hungry nauseas for a bite But if the world’s apple pie of course you want a slice (yup) [Chorus] Now how u gon’ tell me you don’t love me no more (hoe you gon’ tell me that Cuz Im out here getting this bread (you hatin on this paper chase) Tryna get my Momma a crib Tryna get up out the ghetto How the Hood Talkin bout they don’t need me no more Cuz a motherfucka push that GT It’s a problem tryna take that from me Cuz im packin (Jones) heavy metal uhhuh Heard somebody speak my name, but death was next to it (pray for me) My next breath was let’s do it (kid) Got me runnin through the game with my vest and my best shooters (who’s next) Best of event VVS and best ya jewellers (new year) Nigga outta lame ya shit, gets chewed up (get em) And im tryna kill the pain with like two sluts (what’s up baby) Use to say money ain’t a thang to I blew up (what) Then money’s everything, but that thang can break your crew up (true stills) Where did love go? (where) And where does that leave us? (where we at) They holdin’ grudges on how they receive us (fa sho) And show the judges on how they perceive us Hate to see a thug Nigga whip the forein features (ballin) Secretary’s that Condoleza (yup) Cash first, secondary we use the visa (uh huh) Blast first, never worry about police cuffs (nope) Ya either leave us or you free us I need money! [Chorus:] Now how u gon’ tell me you don’t love me no more Cuz I’m out here getting this bread Tryna get my Momma a crib Tryna get up out the ghetto How the Hood talkin bout they don’t need me no more Cuz a motherfucka push that GT It’s a problem tryna take that from me Cuz I’m packin heavy metal

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