blow Under the sea Under the sea When the sardine Begin the beguine It's music to me What do they got? A lot of sand We got a hot crustacean band Each
of the ballroom Alone by the music She looked like a spiderweb Fresh from the war He complements her bedroom decor She crawled in there like water She
color Shit butter hot, but just a little mo' gutter Smash shit regularly, word to my mother Show love for the bitches and put it down for my brudda Hot
split the wiggidy-water You intrigued by the way, we do our thing Do what? Pick up the mic, hot, and make you swing Say what? Pick up the mic, hot, and
sea When the sardine Begin the beguine Its music to me What do they got? a lot of sand We got a hot crustacean
seat. Just threw my coat right on the floor Grab somebody for a quick dance. Boy or girl? It don't matter no more, I'm hot! Ha, ha, ha, shit. Mix was
It's already so hard to obtain... But I'm sure you will Make it all complicated That a cartain fall Is bound to send you To the cold floor. You know it
it faded. But all the old things are like they where before, one more time. And all the same things are lying on the floor, one more time. Through all
one of you guys lend her a dime? ALISA Just an apartment with no roaches and no dry rot ANITA Where the hot water comes out hot BOTH That's my Hollywood
a single soul that can relate To these crawling, my fingers cold, still relate By the force, that draws the cogs in my clock work The lights my way through the fog in the hot
it when I spit I'm a Hillside Scrambler, the widest in the click Watch Ugodz-Illa set fire to this shit [U-God] As the music gets louder at the top of
program and fuck bitches who love to hold (hands) Foul shit, way out of order Fuck shit up leave bitches hot and sweaty drippin buckets of water (water
to instrumentals Instrumentals is the development of these niggas mentals Tears in your eyes like this moment is sentimental Your fundamentally floored, philosophically bored Disturbed like the eighth floor
't gonna stress it or argue I'm just gonna go and hit the fiends with a part 2 I'm just trying to get it in the water like shark food They say I'm all
Music by Buster & Bennie Moten Lyrics by Jon Hendricks That's swing! Yes, sir! (Swingin' from the time of birth) Hip thing - gasser! (Swingin' fit t'