Glory, glory, I'm a leader! Should I tell her now of all that's she's in for? On top of spaghetti, All covered with cheese, I lost my poor meatball, When somebody sneezed. Michael Jor-DAN (echo). It's a long long climb, But we've got the will, When we reach the top. Italian food with all its cheese. Have ever you audited such an account in your existence.
This sub is dedicated to the gang culture in California, mostly in regards to the Crips, Bloods, Hoovers, Sureños, Norteños, and others. I was present at the Siege of Mafeking! Lyrics:||Off we go into the wild blue yonder, |. They said, "We're out of business, we keep the strays no more. Three starved mice, three starved mice, They came to a farm, they came to a farm. Choppa on my hip. He's the man who never returned. Don't see a soul When you got me right there you better hold me close Yodel-Ay, yodel-ay, yodel-ay-hee-hoo I draw up first, and then I let it go Han Solo. Repeat the song but sing it a bit higher. Pulled out his knife, * and cut it's throat. A rafi, a rafi, Alternate Lyrics. Where the trees is tall and the grass is green. One fine day as I was.
Take me out with my Troop. When it's crab cake time in Maryland... Lyrics: Yodel-ay-hee-hoo Yodel-ay-hee-hoo Yodel-ay-hee Yodel-ay-hee-hoo Yodel-ay-hee-hoo Yodel-ay-hee Yodel-ay-hee-hoo Yodel-ay-hee-hoo Yodel. We'll drink a drink a drink. Whenever they see the Ric-A-Dam-Doo, The Bombers of the Princess Pat's. Your Mama don't wear no socks. If he's past the maturity age. Keep that choppa on my hip yodel. 'Cause my pants just filled up with my... And she whistles while the [Sniff] drips down her nose. When it's flax farming time in North Dakota...
Why are you lying in the road? I said a bloom chicka blossom smell those flowers chicka bloom. And the doc thought he wouldn't pull through. And crown thy good with brotherhood. Then we noticed his pants filled with...
When a horse-man passes, the soldiers have a rule. They always cause a motion. Watch Lillian Russell wrestle with a box of oysterettes. And gaze at the moon until I lose my senses, I can't look at hobbles and I can't stand fences, Don't Wear No Socks. I hate to be picking a nit. Let me stay, out here in mother nature's land. I do not know, * I can not tell, *. Notes:||Tune: (Clementine) |. Parrot eyeballs dipped in glue. When it's crab catching time in Louisiana... How I Hate to Get Up in the Morning. St. Bernard (woof, woof) [add drooping hands].