HE LISTENS TO THE FUCKING SMITHS HE'S GOT A MUSTACHE HE WEARS A TRENCHCOAT HE'S GOT A MUSTACHE HE WEARS BLACK TIGHTS HE WRITES POETRY HE WEARS BLACK
THE DOLPHIN'S IN THE JACUSSI I WANNA GET A CREDITCARD AND, AH I'M GONNA BUY A STEREO AT CAMBRIDGE SOUNDWORKS I WAS LOOKING AT MY ASS THIS MORNING YOU
Idle Fame with a plastic smile Controversial relations keep you on top for a while At the top of the charts, the bottom of the barrel Success depends
And another I sure am glad I got you for a lover Hit 39, I'm leavin' the top 40 behind Holdin' on to what I got Hit 39, leavin' the top 40 behind Holdin
of a bitch Ain't no top 40 song They put him on trial He killed her with a wrench Sentenced him to die But he didn't flinch Ain't no top 40 song His
get it now They wan't you to buy it, anyhow Top 40, it makes me sick Top 40, turn it off quick Top 40, can't take any more Top 40, oh what a bore I
here you've finally made it you're over the top but there's only one thing that makes you drop you've finally made it you're over the top but there's
They're making you what you are: Soldiers with no brains You think (you think) you have a choice (You don't) Money chooses for you You play the role
the memo Young King, pay me in gold 40 got a bunch of weed he ain't even roll These n*ggas be droppin' songs they ain't even cold Weezy on top and that
the memo Young King, pay me in gold 40 got a bunch of weed he ain't even roll These n-ggas be droppin songs they ain't even cold Weezy on top and that
just wanna be, I just wanna be successful I just wanna be, I just wanna be successful I just wanna be, I just wanna be successful Yeah, I want things top
around that bitch Unless she got them lips wrapped around that dick Other niggas wanna make love, fuck that I bing, bang, pound, beat down that clit Sit with it like E-40
cars roll out, remove ceiling In case fifty-two broads come out, now you chillin' With a boss bitch of course S.C. on the sleeve At the 40/40 club, ESPN
streets where the Hood could swallow a man, bullets will follow a man There's so much coke that you could run the slalom And cops comb the shit top to
' or we pass you, flyin' by sayin' fuck you It's Young Money, Cash Money, playboy That's about the size of it At the roof top, so hot up here, nigga
riding Or we passing, flying by saying "fuck you" It's Young Money Cash Money playboy That's about the size of it At the roof top So hot up here nigga