(Chorus: Scratched by DJ Unknown) Tired of the mother fucking jackin Boys that be jackin Tired of the motherfucking jackin Police, wanna front; wanna
like they ought to be you gotta think fast The aftermath of your actions whiplash Think fast This is some of that lonely shit Yo, I know you all tired
time i ride by she like the way the jet black cadillac shine (ma-make her say)3 (oh my)3 yeah yo i hop out my ride im lookin fly come ride the pony
She's pony-tailed an' she's halter topped Her bumper-sticker says, "I hate hip-hop" With a southern drawl, she says, "Howdy, y'all" And her hands ain'
winds blow And a heart would beat in 'Babbacombe' Lee I was born to lead a life of sorrow I've friends hang their heads in shame Growing tired and weary
when she's beating him over the nose with a tire iron And then we both jump away and disappear And the pig will turn around and there'll be this pony
to fight to four or five boogiemen in front of me... Well, maybe he can turn into... One of 'em could maybe be, uh killed. Yes, but I've heard these ponies
earth? To plant seeds in, yes sir, a garden Do you care about gardens so much, then? (I didn't know about them in India, I was always ill and tired)
with the tide I tell You that I love you a thousand times Someone said a silver course lands my door Now, question marks talk to me even more I'm tired
floor that was bare And we loaded up her barrel pony And a riggin' bag's all that I had Left with our suitcases filled with desire Four hundred dollars, two good spare tires
You can ride High atop your pony I know you won't fall 'Cause the whole thing's phoney You can fly swinging From your trapeze Scaring all the people
In the chest of a dealer hammers And smelts a foul charge As he smoothes sour cream from his moll's pony And metes her an unholy barrage (O, the living
two kids and my first wife Went to USC, got a degree I must have learned a thing or three But I never learned the right way To hang a tire swing from
the gravel underneath the fenders Weave home a wet, slick anaconda of a 2-lane Tire irons and a crowbars a-rattlin', with a tool box and a pony saddle
was afraid I would be sad and lonely I was afraid you would not be my one and only Well, I got so hung Now I'm gonna stake my pony Oh no (Yeah, yeah
heart keeps beating on I won't die like chucky won't die But I'm not here to socialize Gotta find a new place to hang out 'Cause I'm tired of living in
the gravel underneath the fenders to weave home a wet slick anaconda of a two lane with tire irons and crowbars a rattlin' with a tool box and a pony
una asesina Nena como inventar, Apunto de Cazar? Atractiva, va pa encima, es una atrevida, una asesina, Nena como inventar, no dejas sal? COSCULLUELA Ella es mi baby Pony