't afford to check it I wish somebody come along and run in to it and wreck it Come on, since my baby parted, come on I can't get started, come on I
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on, they let sun in, no blinds All I drink is my shit Stop playin, Youtube But tonight we on that Red Berry and Cranberry, Soo Woo [Lil Wayne] And I'm smokin' on
, how do you reply to that? You see a lot of people don't realize that you know Rock n' Roll is truly black music, it was created by Chuck Berry, Little
Hank Williams sang it, Number 3 drove it Chuck Berry twanged it, Will Faulkner wrote it Aretha Franklin sold it, Dolly Parton graced it Rosa Parks rode
, I can hardly wait I'm hungry so when I come through hand me a plate Or that down hun southern cook connect jam Now easy on the ham, but heavy on the
(Chuck Berry) Let me tell you 'bout a girl I know, I found her walking down an uptown street. She's so fine, you know I wish she was mine, I get shook
'til I got back in the USA (Come on, boy!) / INSTRUMENTAL / Lookin' hard for a drive-in, searchin' for a corner café Where hamburgers sizzle on
hey sure does smell like rain Woody Guthrie was a walkin? man In the dust bowl days Had a six string guitar in his hands He killed a fascist every day Chuck Berry
The rock stops here Everybody's gettin' down The rock stops here "oww!" here comes the great james brown The rock stops here Chuck berry's with
a magic sound. roll, roll, let it roll, let it flood down to your soul, let it talk, let it swing, play that music, let it ring. now you can pick buddy holly, chuck berry
, y'all got the glass jar And when I hit it, admit it, y'all on y'all ass y'all We on the same team, you don't wanna pass the ball Chuck and gun up the
thought my dirty raps were kinda funny But close minded people thought I was only out to make money But check on back 'cause it's a fact obscenity is no new thing Remember chuck berry
Domingo Met a girl named Carrie Munks mortuary, then it goes to the cemetary She told me she loved me and it's scary Like Chuck Berry I string funky guitars Swoopin down on
is sinking low All day I been waiting for the whistle to blow Sitting in a teepee built right on the tracks Rolling them bones until the foreman comes
you, who will not sing You must be playing with your own ding a ling Oh my ding a ling, my ding a lin (Come on now, Come on now, Everybody sing) Now
roof of it will have peak lines, and contours that dip; and form shadowy eaves, where the little raindrops can drip. ... That sweet pitter patter, of raindrops at play - is such a beautiful sound on
of cold hearted strangers I went hungry in New York and Chicago was no better But today, my dear mother wrote and told me in her letter Son, come back
