I just hate stupid people. They should have to wear signs that just say I'm stupid. That way you wouldn't rely on them, would you? You wouldn't ask them
Well, they put six strings on a maple stick, Stuck it on a slab of ash, Sold one to Luther, threw in a pick, Sent him out with Johnny Cash. Now, could
Long before fish every walked on land, time was turning rocks into sand. Rocks into stone, stone into sand, sand that slips through the hands of a man
God has spoke I need a smoke man [Incomprehensible] All these bitches and niggas still hatin' I used to be a baller but now I'm Bill Gaten' Got a list
In a torrid little cabin 'neath Aurora Boreeay Wild Bill waxed his whiskers, dabbed perfume behind each ear From a flask of Spanish lotion that he'd had
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone It's not warm when she's away Ain't no sunshine when she's gone She always gone too long anytime she goes away Wonder
This track is an instrumental and has no lyrics.
Sometimes in our lives We all have pain We all have sorrow But if we are wise We know that there's Always tomorrow Lean on me, when you're not strong
She couldn't stand me anymore So she just took the kids and went You see, I've got a drinkin' problem All the money that we had I spent Now I must die
La, la, la La, la I only want to love you Please don?t push me away Let me in your life I wasn?t even there when he hurt you So why should I have to
brother Now let us love Now let us love Appreciate y'all coming out Thank you Bill Withers, ladies and gentlemen One more time, Bill Withers Let's hear it for Bill
My friends feel it's their appointed duty They keep trying to tell me here All you want to do is use me But my answer, yeah to all that use me stuff
Looking at the pictures of the places that he?s been Old man told me what he found Said it don?t make no difference whether you?re out or whether you?
You can live your life in a crowded city You can walk along a crowded street But the city really ain't no bigger than the friendly People, friendly people
I can't write left-handed Would you please write a letter, write a letter to my mother? Tell her to tell, tell her to tell, tell her to tell the family
Maybe the lateness of the hour Makes me seem bluer than I am But in my heart there is a shower I hope she'll be happier with him Maybe the darkness of
Grandma's hands Clapped in church on Sunday morning Grandma's hands Played a tambourine so well Grandma's hands Used to issue out a warning She'd say, "
In the '95, bodies droppin' When you hear my pistol select ya dome, respect that true house Or underground shit, Mr. Bill Collector, Bone Them callin' me Mr. Bill
