I got me a hit record and I ain't never made a cent from it.
quote by Patsy Cline
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Book Of The Duchesse
THE PROEM
I have gret wonder, be this lighte,
How that I live, for day ne nighte
I may nat slepe wel nigh noght,
I have so many an ydel thoght
Purely for defaute of slepe
That, by my trouthe, I take no kepe
Of no-thing, how hit cometh or goth,
Ne me nis no-thing leef nor loth.
Al is y-liche good to me --
Ioye or sorowe, wherso hyt be --
For I have feling in no-thinge,
But, as it were, a mased thing,
Alway in point to falle a-doun;
For sorwful imaginacioun
Is alway hoolly in my minde.
And wel ye wite, agaynes kynde
Hit were to liven in this wyse;
For nature wolde nat suffyse
To noon erthely creature
Not longe tyme to endure
Withoute slepe, and been in sorwe;
And I ne may, ne night ne morwe,
Slepe; and thus melancolye
And dreed I have for to dye,
Defaute of slepe and hevinesse
Hath sleyn my spirit of quiknesse,
That I have lost al lustihede.
Suche fantasies ben in myn hede
So I not what is best to do.
But men myght axe me, why soo
I may not slepe, and what me is?
But natheles, who aske this
Leseth his asking trewely.
My-selven can not telle why
The sooth; but trewely, as I gesse,
I holde hit be a siknesse
That I have suffred this eight yere,
And yet my bote is never the nere;
For ther is phisicien but oon,
That may me hele; but that is doon.
Passe we over until eft;
That wil not be, moot nede be left;
Our first matere is good to kepe.
So whan I saw I might not slepe,
Til now late, this other night,
Upon my bedde I sat upright
And bad oon reche me a book,
A romaunce, and he hit me took
[...] Read more
poem by Geoffrey Chaucer
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Cleanness
Clannesse who so kyndly cowþe comende
& rekken vp alle þe resounz þat ho by ri3t askez,
Fayre formez my3t he fynde in for[þ]ering his speche
& in þe contrare kark & combraunce huge.
For wonder wroth is þe Wy3þat wro3t alle þinges
Wyth þe freke þat in fylþe fol3es Hym after,
As renkez of relygioun þat reden & syngen
& aprochen to hys presens & prestez arn called;
Thay teen vnto his temmple & temen to hym seluen,
Reken with reuerence þay rychen His auter;
Þay hondel þer his aune body & vsen hit boþe.
If þay in clannes be clos þay cleche gret mede;
Bot if þay conterfete crafte & cortaysye wont,
As be honest vtwyth & inwith alle fylþez,
Þen ar þay synful hemself & sulped altogeder
Boþe God & His gere, & hym to greme cachen.
He is so clene in His courte, þe Kyng þat al weldez,
& honeste in His housholde & hagherlych serued
With angelez enourled in alle þat is clene,
Boþ withine & withouten in wedez ful bry3t;
Nif he nere scoymus & skyg & non scaþe louied,
Hit were a meruayl to much, hit mo3t not falle.
Kryst kydde hit Hymself in a carp onez,
Þeras He heuened a3t happez & hy3t hem her medez.
Me mynez on one amonge oþer, as Maþew recordez,
Þat þus clanness vnclosez a ful cler speche:
Þe haþel clene of his hert hapenez ful fayre,
For he schal loke on oure Lorde with a bone chere';
As so saytz, to þat sy3t seche schal he neuer
Þat any vnclannesse hatz on, auwhere abowte;
For He þat flemus vch fylþe fer fro His hert
May not byde þat burre þat hit His body ne3en.
Forþy hy3not to heuen in haterez totorne,
Ne in þe harlatez hod, & handez vnwaschen.
For what vrþly haþel þat hy3honour haldez
Wolde lyke if a ladde com lyþerly attyred,
When he were sette solempnely in a sete ryche,
Abof dukez on dece, with dayntys serued?
Þen þe harlot with haste helded to þe table,
With rent cokrez at þe kne & his clutte traschez,
& his tabarde totorne, & his totez oute,
Oþer ani on of alle þyse, he schulde be halden vtter,
With mony blame ful bygge, a boffet peraunter,
Hurled to þe halle dore & harde þeroute schowued,
& be forboden þat bor3e to bowe þider neuer,
On payne of enprysonment & puttyng in stokkez;
& þus schal he be schent for his schrowde feble,
Þa3neuer in talle ne in tuch he trespas more.
& if vnwelcum he were to a worþlych prynce,
3et hym is þe hy3e Kyng harder in her euen;
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Steamheaters
She wants a love...
She can take into her arms.
Hold her with her charms.
And sing love songs,
To allure
And captivate!
Heating...
Without setting off the alarm!
He wants a love...
No other one has had.
When it is 'his' booty...
He likes it slow not fast!
And he's glad no one has had,
To touch his booty's ass!
If that has to happen,
He knew he would be sad!
And...
'What' they want...
Maybe a bit too soon.
They need more memory moments.
Before beginning to cast eyes on that 'fullmoon'!
As they lay naked on the basement floor...
Sighing and grinding in lovebird swoons!
'WHAT? '
Steamheaters drip...
Just 'getting it'!
They both are wet,
From the basement water!
Steamheaters kiss...
With sexiness.
He sucked her tits,
'Til her husband caught her,
With his best friend...
'getin' it! '
'Uh...
For clarification,
Will you say that again, please? '
You want it sung?
'No,
I just want it heard.
I may have misunderstood!
What I thought your blurted,
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Hit Me With A Rock
When I was a little boy
(when I was just a boy)
And my mother would call my name
(when I was just a boy)
Shed say I had to be in the house by seven
(when I was just a boy)
But Id stay out late at night
(when I was just a boy)
And when Id finally get back in
Oh, I know shed hit me, shed hit me
Shed sit me on her knees and whip me
Oh, shed hit me with a rock
Shed whip me with a rock, oh baby
Shed hit me (hit me with a rock)
Shed hit me, hit me, hit me, hit me
(hit me with a rock)
And when I was grown to be a man
(grown to be a man)
The minute the boss would call my name
(grown to be a man)
And say I had to be in the office by seven
(grown to be a man)
Im a constipated man
(grown to be a man)
And when Id finally get back in
Oh, my bossd hit me, hed hit me
Hed tie me to a chair and whip me
Oh hed hit me with a rock
Hed whip me with a rock, oh baby
Hed hit me (hit me with a rock)
Hed hit me, hit me, hit me, hit me
(hit me with a rock)
When I was grown to be president
(was the president)
The minute the congressd call my name
(was the president)
And said some papers had to be signed by thursday
(had to be signed by thursday)
Id fly away to pakistan
(was the president)
And the second that Id get back home
Oh, I know theyd hit me, theyd hit me
With leather and chains theyd whip me
Oh, theyd hit me with a rock
Theyd whip me with a rock, oh baby
Theyd hit me. (hit me with a rock)
Theyd hit me, hit me, hit me, hit me
(hit me with a rock)
Hit me, hit me, hit me
(hit me with a rock)
[...] Read more
song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Avowyng of Arthur
He that made us on the mulde,
And fair fourmet the folde,
Atte His will, as He wold,
The see and the sande,
Giffe hom joy that will here
Of dughti men and of dere,
Of haldurs that before us were,
That lifd in this londe.
One was Arther the Kinge,
Wythowtun any letting;
Wyth him was mony lordinge
Hardi of honde.
Wice and war ofte thay were,
Bold undur banere,
And wighte weppuns wold were,
And stifly wold stond.
This is no fantum ne no fabull;
Ye wote wele of the Rowun Tabull,
Of prest men and priveabull,
Was holdun in prise:
Chevetan of chivalry,
Kyndenesse and curtesy,
Hunting full warly,
As wayt men and wise.
To the forest thay fare
To hunte atte buk and atte bare,
To the herte and to the hare,
That bredus in the rise.
The King atte Carlele he lay;
The hunter cummys on a day -
Sayd, 'Sir, ther walkes in my way
A well grim gryse.
'He is a balefull bare -
Seche on segh I nevyr are:
He hase wroghte me mycull care
And hurte of my howundes,
Slayn hom downe slely
Wyth feghting full furcely.
Wasse ther none so hardi
Durste bide in his bandus.
On him spild I my spere
And mycull of my nothir gere.
Ther moue no dintus him dere,
Ne wurche him no wowundes.
He is masly made -
All offellus that he bade.
Ther is no bulle so brade
That in frith foundes.
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Memory Will Endure (Revised)
‘Cent Mille Chansons’ stirs memory, beautiful
voice, melody of such bitter-sweet nostalgia, a
whispering spirit crying in the cupboard: no drag
worm relates stories of new knights and dragons
Just dream sustained characters who take their
bows, spirits bolstered by lyrics of this song, there
always will be a hundred thousand loves – and
castles and stars to remain untouched by us
One hundred thousand horizons of love, we shall
add new another romance as we join a hundred
thousand lovers in the blue sphere of earth; the
world will never need to know –
but memory endures a hundred thousand years
in my sensitive soul
[ORIGINAL: ]
Listening to Cent Mille Chansons stirred a memory:
a beautiful voice, a melody conveying such bitter-
sweet nostalgia - the whispering spirit in the cup-
board crying: there is no dragworm to tell me a
new story of knights and dragons
Just dreams sustain as my characters take their bows,
the spirit bolstered by the lyrics of this song, there
always will be a hundred thousand loves; castles
and stars will remain untouched by us in this
ocean of love, there will always be
A hundred thousand horizons, we shall add another
romance as we join a hundred thousand lovers in
the blue sphere of the earth; the world will never
know - but the memory will endure a hundred
thousand years in my sensitive soul...
1.Lyrics “Cent Mille Chansons” Frida Boccara
Il y aura cent mille chansons
Quand viendra le temps des cent mille saisons
Cent mille amoureux
Pareils à nous deux
Dans le lit tout bleu de la terre
Cent mille chansons rien qu'à nous
Cent mille horizons devant nous
Partagés de bonheur
[...] Read more
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Patience
Pacience is a poynt, þa33e,
& quo for þro may no3t þole, þe þikker he sufferes.
&Thorn;en is better to abyde þe bur vmbestoundes
&Thorn;en ay þrow forth my þro, þa33e masse,
How Mathew melede þat his Mayster His meyny con teche.
A3t happes He hem hy3t & vcheon a mede,
Sunderlupes, for hit dissert, vpon a ser wyse:
Thay arn happen þat han in hert pouerte,
For hores is þe heuen-ryche to holde for euer;
&Thorn;ay ar happen also þat haunte mekenesse,
For þay schal welde þis worlde & alle her wylle haue;
Thay ar happen also þat for her harme wepes,
For þay schal comfort encroche in kythes ful mony;
&Thorn;ay ar happen also þat hungeres after ry3t,
For þay schal frely be refete ful of alle gode;
Thay ar happen also þat han in hert rauþe,
For mercy in alle maneres her mede schal worþe;
&Thorn;ay ar happen also þat arn of hert clene,
For þay her Sauyour in sete schal se with her y3en;
Thay ar happen also þat halden her pese,
For þay þe gracious Godes sunes schal godly be called;
&Thorn;ay ar happen also þat con her hert stere,
For hores is þe heuen-ryche, as I er sayde.
These arn þe happes alle a3t þat vus bihy3t weren,
If we þyse ladyes wolde lof in lyknyng of þewes:
Dame Pouert, Dame Pitee, Dame Penaunce þe þrydde,
Dame Mekenesse, Dame Mercy, & miry Clannesse,
& þenne Dame Pes, & Pacyence put in þerafter.
He were happen þat hade one; alle were þe better.
Bot [s]yn I am put to a poynt þat pouerte hatte,
I schal me poruay pacyence & play me with boþe,
For in þe tyxte þere þyse two arn in teme layde,
Hit arn fettled in on forme, þe forme & þe laste,
& by quest of her quoyntyse enquylen on mede.
& als, in myn vpynyoun, hit arn of on kynde:
For þeras pouert hir proferes ho nyl be put vtter,
Bot lenge wheresoeuer hir lyst, lyke oþer greme;
& þereas pouert enpresses, þa33tloker hit lyke & her lotes prayse,
&Thorn;enne wyþer wyth & be wroth & þe wers haue.
3if me be dy3t a destyne due to haue,
What dowes me þe dedayn, oþer dispit make?
Oþer 3if my lege lorde lyst on lyue me to bidde
Oþer to ryde oþer to renne to Rome in his ernde,
What grayþed me þe grychchyng bot grame more seche?
Much 3if he me ne made, maugref my chekes,
& þenne þrat moste I þole & vnþonk to mede,
&Thorn;e had bowed to his bode bongre my hyure.
Did not Jonas in Jude suche jape sumwhyle?
To sette hym to sewrte, vnsounde he hym feches.
Wyl 3e tary a lyttel tyne & tent me a whyle,
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Stricken [from]
::record::
a teacher ::record:: helps a boy get a gun
it's about not ::record:: looking mistakable
::record::
houndstooth
accordion attache
bounty hunter provisions
::record:: I told the teacher about Pietro's
I was angry with the police again
it was not my movie
I was mixed up in campaign finance reform
I was sweet shiftless and poor
and stricken
::record::, a boy is loaded
American Express makes it ::record:: better
'providing alternatives to jail for persons who pose no danger to the community'
Loan Consolidators for your ::record:: problems
'but use purpose area #15A if primary focus is drug testing or purpose area #20 if focus is reducing jail crowding'
Effective Sanctions that Fit the ::record:: Budget
somehow I was caught up in this
and questioned about a family ::record:: resemblance
[...] Read more
poem by Heather Fuller
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Outta Control
[Intro- 50 Cent]
Yeah
Shady
Aftermath
[Chorus- 50 Cent]
I guess ya didn't know
I make you beg for more
Everybody's on the floor
Goin', goin' outta control
[Bridge- 50 Cent]
Set it off from your left dawg
Set it off from your right dawg
Set it off nigga I said set if off
[Verse 1]
Sick with it boy, better get wit it what
In the club, I get it goin' goin' uhh
Just move it to the music its on
To the sound of 50 & D.R.E.
Everythings calculated in time percised
Never move another mill let's get right aight
This test is my ?? choice I'm high off life
Feelin' lucky enough to bet it all on the dice
Shorty do what you wanna do
Hit the dance floor, move how you wanna move
Later on, we can cruise if you wanna cruise
Its whatever you want, the fact is I got more than I flaunt
[Chorus- 50 Cent]
I do my thang in the club
Every chance I get, I tear it up
Dance floor, jam-packed
I got 'em goin', goin' outta control
[Bridge- 50 Cent]
Set it off from your left dawg
Set if off from your right dawg
Set it off nigga I said set it off
[Verse 2]
System thumpin', dance floor jumpin'
We thirty deep in this bitch, we stuntin'
Thats what you get, you in my hood
I thought you understood
You know me, VIP, no ID
Bottles in DP, I do it real BIG
Bitches break their necks to be where I be
Take 'em to ecstacy without ecstacy
I'm the chef, you need a hit, I got the recipe
Doc got the antedote and send the drugs in the nose
Can you feel it, Em said for me to make ya feel it
And remind you that you rockin' with the realest
[Chorus- 50 Cent]
I do my thang in the club
[...] Read more
song performed by 50 Cent
Added by Lucian Velea
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Anelida and Arcite
Thou ferse god of armes, Mars the rede,
That in the frosty contre called Trace,
Within thy grisly temple ful of drede
Honoured art as patroun of that place;
With thy Bellona, Pallas, ful of grace,
Be present and my song contynue and guye;
At my begynnyng thus to the I crye.
For hit ful depe is sonken in my mynde,
With pitous hert in Englyssh to endyte
This olde storie, in Latyn which I fynde,
Of quene Anelida and fals Arcite,
That elde, which that al can frete and bite,
As hit hath freten mony a noble storie,
Hath nygh devoured out of oure memorie.
Be favorable eke, thou Polymya,
On Parnaso that with thy sustres glade,
By Elycon, not fer from Cirrea,
Singest with vois memorial in the shade,
Under the laurer which that may not fade,
And do that I my ship to haven wynne.
First folowe I Stace, and after him Corynne.
The Story.
Iamque domos patrias Cithice post aspera gentis
Prelia laurigero subeunte Thesea curru
Letifici plausus missusque ad sidera vulgi
When Theseus with werres longe and grete
The aspre folk of Cithe had overcome,
With laurer corouned, in his char gold-bete,
Hom to his contre-houses is he come,
For which the peple, blisful al and somme,
So cry{:e}den that to the sterres hit wente,
And him to honouren dide al her entente.
Beforn this duk, in signe of victorie,
The trompes come, and in his baner large
The ymage of Mars, and in tokenyng of glorie
Men myghte sen of tresour many a charge,
Many a bright helm, and many a spere and targe,
Many a fresh knyght, and many a blysful route,
On hors, on fote, in al the feld aboute.
Ipolita his wif, the hardy quene
Of Cithia, that he conquered hadde,
With Emelye her yonge suster shene,
[...] Read more
poem by Geoffrey Chaucer
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The Parliament Of Fowles
Here begynyth the Parlement of Foulys
THE PROEM
The lyf so short, the craft so long to lerne,
Thassay so hard, so sharp the conquering,
The dredful Ioy, that alwey slit so yerne,
Al this mene I by love, that my feling
Astonyeth with his wonderful worching
So sore y-wis, that whan I on him thinke,
Nat wot I wel wher that I wake or winke.
For al be that I knowe nat love in dede,
Ne wot how that he quyteth folk hir hyre,
Yet happeth me ful ofte in bokes rede
Of his miracles, and his cruel yre;
Ther rede I wel he wol be lord and syre,
I dar not seyn, his strokes been so sore,
But God save swich a lord! I can no more.
Of usage, what for luste what for lore,
On bokes rede I ofte, as I yow tolde.
But wherfor that I speke al this? not yore
Agon, hit happed me for to beholde
Upon a boke, was write with lettres olde;
And ther-upon, a certeyn thing to lerne,
The longe day ful faste I radde and yerne.
For out of olde feldes, as men seith,
Cometh al this newe corn fro yeer to yere;
And out of olde bokes, in good feith,
Cometh al this newe science that men lere.
But now to purpos as of this matere --
To rede forth hit gan me so delyte,
That al the day me thoughte but a lyte.
This book of which I make of mencioun,
Entitled was al thus, as I shal telle,
`Tullius of the dreme of Scipioun.';
Chapitres seven hit hadde, of hevene and helle,
And erthe, and soules that therinnr dwelle,
Of whiche, as shortly as I can hit trete,
Of his sentence I wol you seyn the grete.
First telleth hit, whan Scipion was come
In Afrik, how he mette Massinisse,
That him for Ioye in armes hath y nome.
Than telleth hit hir speche and al the blisse
That was betwix hem, til the day gan misse;
And how his auncestre, African so dere,
[...] Read more
poem by Geoffrey Chaucer
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Candy Shop (Lyrics)
Intro: 50 Cent
Yeah...
Uh huh
So seductive
Chorus:
[50 Cent]
I take you to the candy shop
I'll let you lick the lollypop
Go 'head girl, don't you stop
Keep going 'til you hit the spot (woah)
[Olivia]
I take you to the candy shop
Boy one taste of what I got
I'll have you spending all you got
Keep going 'til you hit the spot (woah)
Verse 1: 50 Cent
You got it your way, how do you want it
You gon' back that thing up or should i push up on it
Temperature rising, okay lets go to the next level
Dance floor jam packed, hot as a teakettle
I'll break it down for you now, baby it's simple
If you be a nympho, I'll be a nympho
In the hotel or in the back of the rental
On the beach or in the park, it's whatever you into
Got the magic stick, I'm the love doctor
Have your friends teasin you 'bout how sprung I gotcha
Wanna show me how you work it baby, no problem
Get on top then get to bouncing round like a low rider
I'm a seasons vet when it come to this shit
After you work up a sweat you can play with the stick
I'm tryin to explain baby the best way I can
I melt in your mouth girl, not in your hands (ha ha)
Chorus:
[50 Cent]
I take you to the candy shop
I'll let you lick the lollypop
Go 'head girl, don't you stop
Keep going 'til you hit the spot (woah)
[Olivia]
I'll take you to the candy shop
Boy one taste of what I got
I'll have you spending all you got
Keep going 'til you hit the spot (woah)
Bridge: 50 Cent & Olivia
Girl what we do (what we do)
And where we do (and where we do)
[...] Read more
poem by Aaron Dacey
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Rejected
She says she’s very sorry, as she sees you to the gate;
You calmly say ‘Good-bye’ to her while standing off a yard,
Then you lift your hat and leave her, walking mighty stiff and straight—
But you’re hit, old man—hit hard.
In your brain the words are burning of the answer that she gave,
As you turn the nearest corner and you stagger just a bit;
But you pull yourself together, for a man’s strong heart is brave
When it’s hit, old man—hard hit.
You might try to drown the sorrow, but the drink has no effect;
You cannot stand the barmaid with her coarse and vulgar wit;
And so you seek the street again, and start for home direct,
When you’re hit, old man—hard hit.
You see the face of her you lost, the pity in her smile—
Ah! she is to the barmaid as is snow to chimney grit;
You’re a better man and nobler in your sorrow, for a while,
When you’re hit, old man—hard hit.
And, arriving at your lodgings, with a face of deepest gloom,
You shun the other boarders and your manly brow you knit;
You take a light and go upstairs directly to your room—
But the whole house knows you’re hit.
You clutch the scarf and collar, and you tear them from your throat,
You rip your waistcoat open like a fellow in a fit;
And you fling them in a corner with the made-to-order coat,
When you’re hit, old man—hard hit.
You throw yourself, despairing, on your narrow little bed,
Or pace the room till someone starts with ‘Skit! cat!—skit!’
And then lie blindly staring at the plaster overhead—
You are hit, old man—hard hit.
It’s doubtful whether vanity or love has suffered worst,
So neatly in our nature are those feelings interknit,
Your heart keeps swelling up so bad, you wish that it would burst,
When you’re hit, old man—hard hit.
You think and think, and think, and think, till you go mad almost;
Across your sight the spectres of the bygone seem to flit;
The very girl herself seems dead, and comes back as a ghost,
When you’re hit, like this—hard hit.
You know that it’s all over—you’re an older man by years,
In the future not a twinkle, in your black sky not a split.
Ah! you’ll think it well that women have the privilege of tears,
When you’re hit, old man—hard hit.
You long and hope for nothing but the rest that sleep can bring,
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Lawson
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Overnight Sensation
(eric carmen)
Well i know it sounds funny
But i'm not in it for the money, no
I don't need reputation
And i'm not in it for the show
I just want a hit record
Want to hear it on the radio
Want a big hit record
One that everybody's got to know
Well the program director don't pull it
Then it's bound to get back the bullet
So bring the group down to the station
You're gonna be an overnight sensation
I've been tryin' to write the lyric
Not offensive but satiric, too
If you can get it in the "a" slot
It's just gotta make a mint for you
And i want a hit record
Want to hear it on the radio
Want a big hit record
One that everybody's got to own
Overnight sensation
I fit the words
To a good melody
Amazing how success
Has been ignoring me so long
I've used my bread
Making demos all day
And writing in the night
While in my head i hear
The record play
Hear it play
Hit record, yeah
Want a hit record, yeah
Want a hit record, yeah
(number one)
Want a hit record, yeah
(number one)
song performed by Eric Carmen
Added by Lucian Velea
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Drinking my own anger
I couldn’t hit the earth in my bouts of anger; as it
was the one which grew the food necessary for my
survival,
I couldn’t hit the wall in my bouts of anger; as it
was the one which sequestered my scalp against
tumultuous storm and rain; it was the one which constituted and
fortified my dwelling,
I couldn't hit the tree in my bouts of anger; as it
was laden with the fruits I nibbled in my times of
relish; imparted me with velvety breeze in the
sweltering night,
I couldn’t hit the mirror in my bouts of anger; as it
magnificently portrayed to me my pellucid and candid
reflection; and doing so I knew would exacerbate the
situation further; would make my own hand bleed,
I couldn’t hit mothers stomach in my bouts of anger;
for it was the singular pouch which had bore me for 9
months unrelentingly; the very sacred sac which was
responsible for my existence today,
I couldn’t hit the snake in my bouts of anger; for it
guarded my treasury of wealth unflinchingly all night
and day; and would viciously retort back the instant I
raised my fingers to strike,
I couldn’t hit the Sun in my bouts of anger; for it
was the sole source of light which maneuvered me in
the day; lit up my every morning with an enchanting
smile,
I couldn’t hit the child in my bouts of anger; for it
was all the energy I possessed; was the sweetest
little form of God running gleefully on this earth,
I couldn’t hit the waters in my bouts of anger; for
they were the ones who pacified my thirst several
times a day; blended my life with loads of mesmerizing
cool and shade,
I couldn’t hit the silver plate in my bouts of anger;
for it was the one in which I actually consumed my
food three times in a day; and insulting it could
probably result in not getting food even three times a
year,
I couldn’t hit the car in my bouts of anger; for it
was the one which transported me marathon distances;
[...] Read more
poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Another Hit n Run
Union jack is back with a hole in his head
Hes gettin badly burned every time
Hes laughin at me and dancin on my sneakers
And his sixties songs are blowin up my speakers
I say you got no respect
Respect for authority
Youre just playing your dirty tricks
And then come cryin to me
Hit and run, hit and run
Its just a hit and run
Another hit and run
The bulldog lost his bite and his breath has gone bad
And the whole damn world is really laughin mad
Hit it!!
Oh bring it down
Oh you bring it down
I say you aint got no respect
I say you aint got no respect
No you aint got no respect
And you hit me when Im down
Hit and run, hit and run
Its just another hit and run
I said its just another hit and run
Oh yeah, hit and run
Oh yeah, hit and run
Oh yeah, hit and run
Oh yeah, hit and run
Oh yeah, hit and run
Its just another hit and run
Hit and run
song performed by Def Leppard
Added by Lucian Velea
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Popular Thug
You know what I am
You know what I do well at least I thought you knew
They call me Pusha
Damn
I take you like a slap in the face
Everytime the bass is mentioned like I had bad intentions
Listen, I thought love was given
So for you I did those things you were missing
Never have to say
Please gimme borrow
As long as I got yay
And two semi autos
And connects in the jets
Like wetback Carlos
I ain't askin' you to follow
Just think about tomorrow
Please
I should have known by the way that you stared
Eyeing Passes by like you're rich but life ain't fair
But you make my record skip
Make my record skip
Make my record skip
Make my record skip
I would have never talked to you if I had known you was a popular thug
Hey, popular thug (you're damn right)
I would have never talked to you if I had known you was a popular thug
Hey, popular thug (you're damn right)
I can't help if I'm a thug and I'm popular
I think that come along with driving a shocking car
Watch the coke light up they life
The rocks with stars
Had fiends talking crippled
Cuz they locked they jaw
Aw Pusha T you think it's cool that you deal
Bout as cool as that breeze on the beach in Brazil
As long as fiends want pain
Then I'm gon' slang
When my financial change
Then I'm gon' change
I should have seen in the way you touched my hand
Shuffling your car keys
But sounded like a gentleman
But ya make my record skip
Make my record skip
Make my record skip
Make my record skip
I would have never talked to you if I had known you was a popular thug
Hey, popular thug (you're damn right)
I would have never talked to you if I had known you was a popular thug
Hey, popular thug (you're damn right)
[...] Read more
song performed by Kelis
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hit Me Off
Hit me off
Produced by: silky
Writeen by: silky, dinky, bingham, and jeff dyson
Rap written by: ronnie devoe and michael bivins
Hit me off
Ricky spoken:
Alright yall
You aint got to ask nobody
Bobby spoken:
Yeah
Ralph:
Got cha open baby
(come on baby you drive me crazy)
Verse 1
Bobby:
Shes the finest thing
Ive ever seen
Looking like a natural queen
I said, let me take you for a ride umm baby
To the other side
We can do just what you like girl
B sec:
We can get started as long
As youre ready
As long as youre ready babe (baby)
Anyway you want it
Chorus:
Hit me off (oh baby, yeah)
Hit me off (oh I like it when you)
Hit me off
Come on baby you drive me crazy
Hit me off
Freak ya like this
Verse 2
Johnny:
You got me open got me
Jonin for an episode
(come on baby you drive me crazy)
Lets spend an hpur in the shower
Where its nice and wet
Im ready for your love
B sec:
So whos making moves
Cause Im looking at you and I like it
Ralph:
Ooh, anyway you want it girl
Chorus:
Hit me off (come over yeah)
Hit me off (come on baby)
Hit me off
[...] Read more
song performed by New Edition
Added by Lucian Velea
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As We Go
Artist: dj jazzy jeff and the fresh prince
{*jazzy jeff cuts and scratches slick rick*
As we go a little somethin like this, hit it!}
[fresh prince]
Now lets get this party, started off the right way
Oww and hoe I think the crowd might say
When were on stage you know you cant resist
{as we go a little somethin like this, hit it!}
Im the ultimate, and thats all I can say
I sat down for about eight hours a day
Tryin to figure out the proper description of me
And I came to the decision that
Theres no one syllable or phrase
That can adequately describe this new craze
But Ill sum it up in one sentence, lets see
Ok, Ive got it, all praise me!
Yup -- thats about the size of it
I know it sounds kinda strange, doesnt it?
But when were on the stage you know you cant resist
{as we go a little somethin like this, hit it!}
{*jazzy jeff cuts and scratches slick rick*
As we go a little somethin like this, hit it!}
[fresh prince]
It was a friday afternoon if I remember it correctly
But I cant quite recall the time exactly
But it was somewhere around, two or three or four
Oh forget it, lets just go on
Anyway I stepped out of school
Sneaks were gucci shirt was polo and my pockets were full
Blew some kisses to the girlies cause I like to tease
They started chantin my name, I said, ladies.. please!
I grabbed my friends and hopped in my benz
Grabbed on martini and rossi passed out to my posse
Things were lookin good, I had plans for later on
Plans for donna michelle, plans for stacy leshaun
Word! I was ready, I wonder if jeffs home
Let me give him a call, on my car phone
Yo jeff, whats shakin? coolin, whassup?
Girlies Im with it, come pick me up!!!
I caught up with ready on the way to jeffs
A whole carload of girlies and they all was def
We walked into jeffs and said, girls, you cant resist
{as we go a little somethin like this, hit it!}
{*jazzy jeff cuts and scratches slick rick*
As we go a little somethin like this, hit it!}
[fresh] yo jeff man, are you with me?
{jeff scratches.. hit it!}
[fresh] I didnt hear you man, are you with me?
{jeff scratches.. hit it!}
[fresh] Im with it to get busy!
[...] Read more
song performed by Will Smith
Added by Lucian Velea
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Wild Strawberries
If I had a dollar, if I had a cent
I would play most anywhere if it would pay my rent
Id be livin on the downside in my old apartment
For the rest of my days
People always ask why the world is on the run
People like you and like me
Is it really true you can really never win
Movin to the upside, tell me when does the fun begin
Deep as the see and as wild as the weather
We will go just you and me to pick wild strawberries together
Or be livin on our own, in a cabin in a meadow
Or meanderin alone, we can face the world forever or well
Hit the bounding main or be on a railroad train
Hit the boundless tide or be on a steamboat ride
Hit the bounding main or be on a midnight plane
Hit the pounding tide or be on a rainbow ride
People often ask me just the way it must feel
To be standing up here with you down there
Let it now be known that throughout all of these years
I have been wearing polka dot underwear
Deep as the sea and as wild as the weather
We will go just you and me to gather crabapples together
And be wandering along toward a cabin in the meadow
Or meandering alone, we can face the world together or well
Hit the bounding main or be on a railroad train
Hit the boundless tide or be on a steamboat ride
Hit the bounding main or be on a midnight plane
Hit the pounding tide or be on a rainbow ride
People always ask why the world is on the slide
People like you and like me
Is it really true there will be no peace left to hide
Turning to the upside, when does the fun begin
Deep as the sea and as wild as the weather
We might go just you and me to pick wild strawberries together
Or be livin on our own in a cabin in a meadow
And the cows will come home
They can face the world forever and well
Hit the bounding main or be on a railroad train
Hit the boundless tide or be on a steamboat ride
Hit the bounding main or be on a midnight plane
Hit the pounding tide or be on a rainbow ride
Hit the bounding main or be on a midnight plane
song performed by Gordon Lightfoot
Added by Lucian Velea
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