listen it?s the truth What u rather dis or me straight lying to u See now we gotta work on ur acceptance dear Listen u shud just accept dis here I move on
live again The plowman is broad as the back of the land he is sowing As he dances the circular track of the plow ever knowing That the work of his day
Try to raise a family, end up the enemy Over what went down on the plains of Abraham Acadian driftwood, gypsy tail wind They call my home the land of
About me workin' the graveyard shift I never went in for no burglary But there's a stranger inside of me Forbidden fruit Don't you shoot the whole works
neon, I put a pot of green tea on Akira Kurosawa, Sapporo Okinawa Girls, with almond eyes, eatin' seaweed and rice It's the land of tradition but I'm a man on
were ringing The night they drove old Dixie down And all the people were singing They went, "La, la, la" Like my father before me, I will work the land
All right people, the rest of the hard working All star blues brothers are gonna be out here in a minute Including my little brother Jake But right now
everybody wanna know whus really goin' on Is you and 3000 still makin' songs? So on and so on I can o-on and o-on and on,and on,and on Hell yes! [CHORUS
is coming to town In the days I work my day job In the nights I work my night But it all comes down to working man's pay Getting ready, I'm getting
Love and blessings, simple kindness Fell like rain on thirsty land Fields and gardens, long abandoned Came to life in dust and sand Lover's lips sweet
' there with the Crist' in your cup The worse come to worse keep this on the hush I know you seen me on the video I know you heard me on the radio But
back to me Lately, lately Yeah, baby, I was a crowd Didn't realize what I had To the girl that made it bad And I'm sorry love But I landed on my feet
sun We won't land We'll walk right up to the sun Hand in hand We'll walk right up to the sun We won't land You'd love to hear the story how the thugs
niggaz recognize the light but they can't handle the glare You know I ain't the type to walk around with matchin' shirts If relationship is effort I will match your work
Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong I had plans to buy more land, plant corn Bust kernels on heat, work
old ghosts, that ain't even here Like Alex Haley take notes on this biography My family tree consists of street refugees A ghetto land, where we talk
Jesus Christ has a pretty face The kind you'd find on someone that could save If they don't put me away It'll be a miracle Do you believe you're missing