думаешь я буду любить тебя я думаю нет hello я день жучок в янтаре я штиль камнем на дно ты думаешь я буду любить тебя я думаю нет hello
Brain He bout to send them the shit that I'm on (Yeah) You prolly could have predicted I'm on (Yeah) My sense of judgment is a officially gone Up into the air
with these real G's, goin' in all stank Everybody pullin' out a bag of dank, shit in the air, so funky stank What the hell, might as well, smoke 'em
spit again Please take me back home (Hell yeah) To Mississippi Crooked letter crooked letter hump-back hump-back Afroman's the bomb, bump that Please take me back home (Hell
the role of a drowning Jeff Buckley. I'm an OutKast in the state of Atliens, Now throw your hands in the air and do the hokey dance. Jane's Addiction
send them the shit that I?m on (Yeah) You prolly could have predicted I?m on (Yeah) My sense of judgment is a officially gone Up into the air all the
into your screen" [Mr. Lif] Jane went insane, she's an anchorwoman Sick of pushing skewed information And abusing the nation Had a few options: Either jump or run Quit or cold raise hell
again. BUCCCOC! Please take me back home, (Hell yeah!) to Mississippi. Crooked letter, crooked letter, hump-back, hump-back, Afroman's the bomb, bump that! Please take me back home, (Hell
, steady flame spittin' Treble, bass, and drum takes out the same system Liu Kang kickin', Sugar Shane hittin' Mary Jane twistin', that's my main mission David Blaine magician, vanish into thin air (air
you talkin bout man man come on none of dats real right there hold on, hold on, hold on you know these girls be out here lying man (sighing) hello! hello
know about meh. [Chorus:] I can save your feelings when your down I'm just here to save the day Make you feel good like each and every day I play tar you play jane
as hell off the contact smoke They havin a smoke out in my back seat (yeah) They passin herb rewindin verses cause it's in the air I hit the parks, I
these, real G's, goin in, all stank everybody pullin out a bag of dank, shit in the air, so funky stank what the hell, might as well, smoke em all, we
shit that I'm on (Yeah) You prolly could have predicted I'm on (Yeah) My sense of judgment is a officially gone Up into the air all the smoke from the
