I was sitting on my fire escape and I saw... sturdy bridges, decorated with dirty pigeons a vagabond begging for three pennies and a princess a junkie
Aight then, flinch for the great granddaddy payback When Little Billy bought a Tugboat Now he thinks he's Captain Ahab Facist takes for the pegleg's birds
club smellin like Cristal cologne Dial Star-8-2 before you call my phone A little boy in a grown man's world But as a little boy I could fuck a grown
both our oars, with little skill By little arms are plied While little hands make vain pretence Our wanderings to guide Ah, cruel three! In such an hour
of prayer But you have made it a den of thieves Get up, get out My time Is almost through Little left to do After all I've tried for three years Seems
scheme Put you on lean from right hooks, pausing your jux You fake crooks need to hit them books Learn the rules of the game Two to your brain, three
it, hide out in the drought, You leave a gat open I'm squeezin' it cuz I'm scopin', hopin' I can catch a nigga with some birds just locin', So I can
world jenny and johnny getting smart it seems made more money on a movie screen every little nest needs a bird pop goes the world one two three and four
but the same old fears come back. Someone's been making me ill I bet you're still, A two, three, four letter word, Yes, you heard, the pretty little bird
I'm shootin from the three and not closin the box I like changed when my grand-daddy shot my pops My whole outlook on life is a bird's view of the block
what do you say we go over the ending of "Little Deuce Coupe" one more time? Alright Alright yeah, come on A-one a-two -a one two three Little deuce
hear di girls bawlin mi hear di girls cryin out She seh Beenie........ [Chorus: Ms. Thing] I want a dude with the wickedest slam, I need a one, two, three
callin mi hear di girls bawlin mi hear di girls cryin out She seh Beenie......... [Chorus: Ms. Thing] I want a dude with the wickedest slam, I need a one, two, three
Little Love Man, I Need A Little Trust I Need A Little Bud Man I Need A Little Us Sometimes I Need A Little Bit Of Rain Just To Take A Little Edge Off
you haven't heard Did you know that Santa Has a secret agent bird He's Penguin, James Penguin That dapper little guy Like a well dressed duck in a three
Cuffed by the task force in trouble I won a Porsche from the juggle Pocket full of stones like Barney Rubble cursed by the devil Birds on the level of
do about it All I'm thinkin' about is you Little boy carryin' a fishing pole Little girl pickin' huckleberries from off of the vine Brown bag filled with a little
that trash you get smashed I'm tellin your ass that i'm out to make cash and I'ma revoke your little hip-hop past you can just save the little praisin