i was born on the coldest day of the year march 11th, and god told me i aint putin a foot up in heaven, cold world. How you gonna be a player with
was heaven Lit up with precious stones Each one could fall but for the rule Of faith and love and stronger thrones And therein rose vast wonders Affections
the rest of the world And windows covered with bars Security guards Is that a house or a prison How you gonna get out? Electric bull and your tennis courts Pink sports
says, "You're laid off Blame the Japanese" "America's back" alright At the game it plays the worst Strip mining the world Like a slave plantation No wonder
wild The prefix is 516, the top of the dial Through the L.I. Sound, to the villa down under And across the globe I heard a lot of folks wonderin' So
Clothes knit, stitched tight, related That's the way we handle it Pin us up or mantle it We on fire, you candle lit Daydreamin' on a rack Get bought worn and brought back We sport
our name was forged I was the Beaver, you Curious George Wanted to dispose of this and that But curiosity had killed the cat At this age no wonder it
- That's that nigga Girls of the world be sayin' - That's that nigga All across the board they goin' - That's that nigga Girls of the world say - That
nigga's career I cock back at you, bust in the air, give me space Beats with plenty bass, drink my Hennessy straight Till I earl out, Third World clout
nor will i cross you never been a player of sports you gota be upright to walk upnights to work down right to worship sunlights to dark down right converse and they wonder
, to turn There's nowhere for me to hide from reality I give it to you like it is, got no time for no games In the world of madness, will my composure
're to eager You ain't havin it? good, me either Lets get together and make this whole world believers At my araignment, screamin All these blacks got is sports
jet ski. I'll race you to the bend. With water sports the times too short. I don't want the day to end. Chorus (x 2) Wonderful time! Wonderful time! Wonderful
closed window To a hundred beats per a second, my mic's secret weapon Infertiate your style to that of Led Zeppelin Encyclopedia Britannica, Hanna Barbera, world
's career I cock back at bust in the air give me space beats with plenty bass drink my Hennessey straight 'til I hurl out third world clout I'll take
with a nigga's career I cock back at bust in the air Give me space beats with plenty bass drink my Hennessey straight Till I hurl out third world clout
who'd love to see me restin' in peace, But they don't matter, Naw... I've felt 'em around me since I was a kid, I often wonder exactly who it is...
grieving Lord give me the strength, so I can make it through this evening What is this world coming to, locking up brothers is a sport Beat us till we