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Greatest Song lyrics

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  • Greatest Song lyrics

    "Fuck Off"

    A shimmy shimmy cocoa cocoa pu- pu - fuckin puffs bitch
    It's the K-K-Kid Rock with the K-K-Kid Rock shit
    I'm on top bitch and rock for tricks
    Hella whips and nips and flip trips for whips
    I get all the money pussy falls like rain
    Been gettin laid and paid that's why I never complain
    If I ain't in it for the money, I'm in it for the P
    It's 1998 yo and you still can't fuck with me
    You don't be fuckin with the blue eye
    Fuckin with my 2-5 hope your fuckin ass like my shoe size
    I got a new vibe, kinda like voodoo
    You do what we say and we'll do what we want to
    We're fuckin up your city and we're fuckin up your progam
    Fuckin all your bitches we don't fuckin give a god damn
    Twisted Brown gets down with no assistance
    We won't quit until we're banned from existence
    Persistance pays if that holds true
    Then I'm a buy this fuckin planet before the time I'm through
    I was praised and raised on the thoughts of no fakin
    So I'm gonna get what I got coming and the rest I'm takin
    I'm shakin like Jerry Lee Lewis and shit
    You act like a motherfucker's new at this shit
    But I've been true to this shit given my heart and soul
    Been shinin like a diamond but gettin passed as coal

    So Fuck Off
    Yeah

    With my pants half hangin off my ass and shit
    Bowl filled with hash pockets stuffed with cash
    I be the mushroom trippin sippin shots of Jack
    Cause the kids don't listen gettin lots of flack
    I be the do wa diddy up and down you block and
    The ten karat Kid with my triggers cockin
    The K the I the D R O C K motherfucker and you still don't know me
    So blow me bitch I don't rock for cancer
    I rock for the cash and the topless dancers
    Don't have no answers so pass the joint
    I'm just paid in full and made in Detroit
    I ride like Setta in the Indy five
    And get live with that which get's me high
    Strive for perfection this much is true
    We do what we say you say what we do
    Kid Rock I couldn't be no Bozo
    And I get too much P to ever be no homo
    Rock from So Ho to Arizona
    I'm an easy rider dreamin of Wynonna
    I roam the country like a Greyhound bus
    Put faith in lust and in God I trust
    I'm not Peter Pan I don't fuck with fairies
    But I bust more rhymes than virgin cherries
    And Harry Carey couldn't call my game
    Fucked so many hoes I'm in the hall of fame
    And I show no shame from coast to coast
    I don't mean to brag, but I like to boast

    Fuck Off

    Yeah right in your mother fuckin ass bitch
    With that Detroit city shit ain't shit switched We're on the same script
    Nothing new since 76 Kid Rock
    Yo Slim Shady come break these mother fuckers off

    Yo tell the world to hold their breath they're breathing the wrong air
    This planet belongs to me and this hippy with long hair
    Two white boys who spike punch and light joints
    Hang around drugs loud music and like noise
    Slim Shady and Brown Trucker another bunch of mother fuckers
    Who hate the world as much as each other
    And I ain't leaving this party tonight
    Till I see some naked bitches dancin around drunk touchin each other
    Rum and Pepsi got your perception of me sketchy
    Cause when I stage dive people are scared to catch me
    Cause all I do is curse and fuck
    So when I do shrooms you all better give me two rooms
    Cause I'm fuckin the first one up
    So when you see me on your block you better lock your cars
    Cause you know I'm losin it when I'm rappin to rock guitars
    This is for children who break rules
    People that straight fool
    And ever single teenager that hates school

    Fuck Off
    My Femboys can Beat up your Ladyboys.  

  • #2
    Fucking rubbish - just my opinion though


    Don't worry, it only seems kinky the first time

    Comment


    • #3
      I saw her today at a reception
      A glass of wine in her hand
      I knew she would meet her connection
      At her feet was her footloose man

      No, you can't always get what you want
      You can't always get what you want
      You can't always get what you want
      And if you try sometime you find
      You get what you need

      I saw her today at the reception
      A glass of wine in her hand
      I knew she was gonna meet her connection
      At her feet was her footloose man

      You can't always get what you want
      You can't always get what you want
      You can't always get what you want
      But if you try sometimes you might find
      You get what you need

      Oh yeah, hey hey hey, oh...

      And I went down to the demonstration
      To get my fair share of abuse
      Singing, "We're gonna vent our frustration
      If we don't we're gonna blow a 50-amp fuse"
      Sing it to me now...

      You can't always get what you want
      You can't always get what you want
      You can't always get what you want
      But if you try sometimes well you just might find
      You get what you need
      Oh baby, yeah, yeah!

      I went down to the Chelsea drugstore
      To get your prescription filled
      I was standing in line with Mr. Jimmy
      And man, did he look pretty ill
      We decided that we would have a soda
      My favorite flavor, cherry red
      I sung my song to Mr. Jimmy
      Yeah, and he said one word to me, and that was "dead"
      I said to him

      You can't always get what you want, no!
      You can't always get what you want (tell ya baby)
      You can't always get what you want (no)
      But if you try sometimes you just might find
      You get what you need
      Oh yes! Woo!

      You get what you need--yeah, oh baby!
      Oh yeah!

      I saw her today at the reception
      In her glass was a bleeding man
      She was practiced at the art of deception
      Well I could tell by her blood-stained hands

      You can't always get what you want
      You can't always get what you want
      You can't always get what you want
      But if you try sometimes you just might find
      You just might find
      You get what you need

      You can't always get what you want (no, no baby)
      You can't always get what you want
      You can't always get what you want
      But if you try sometimes you just might find
      You just might find
      You get what you need, ah yes...
      My Femboys can Beat up your Ladyboys.  

      Comment


      • #4
        I like the Stones but it's the song not the lyrics that make it for me.


        Don't worry, it only seems kinky the first time

        Comment


        • #5
          (newwriter @ Feb. 02 2008,11:46) I like the Stones but it's the song not the lyrics that make it for me.
          Sorry bro, what I said above was a Little harsh.
          I'll Delete it.
          Sorry.
          Mark.
          My Femboys can Beat up your Ladyboys.  

          Comment


          • #6
            (mirimark @ Feb. 01 2008,21:31) You can't always get what you want
            while its lyrics suffer from both a typical rock redundancy as well as an artificially forced ellipsism, the song itself is, imho, is one of the top five greatest rock tunes of all time.
            if that's , my apologies.

            Comment


            • #7
              My life is changing
              in so many ways
              I don't know who
              to trust anymore
              There's a shadow running
              thru my days
              Like a beggar going
              from door to door.

              I was thinking that
              maybe I'd get a maid
              Find a place nearby
              for her to stay.
              Just someone
              to keep my house clean,
              Fix my meals and go away.

              A maid. A man needs a maid.
              A maid.

              It's hard to make that change
              When life and love
              turns strange.
              And old.

              To give a love,
              you gotta live a love.
              To live a love,
              you gotta be "part of"
              When will I see you again?

              A while ago somewhere
              I don't know when
              I was watching
              a movie with a friend.
              I fell in love with the actress.
              She was playing a part
              that I could understand.

              A maid. A man needs a maid.
              A maid.

              When will I see you again?



              Comment


              • #8
                I actually really like this song but the lyrics are something special.

                Aussie Crawl were a great Aussie band of the 80's but this was their lyrical low point.

                Wanna tell you 'bout my Frenda
                He got hit by a Fender
                But he'll soon be on the menda
                He's of the male genda

                Glad to see that he's on his way
                He's not for Burial today

                Because he's in... he's indisposed
                Because he's in yeah yeah... he's indisposed

                Found him outside the dry cleaners
                Oh the drivers misdemeanors
                I've never seen a face so greena
                He looks a like the cats dinner

                Glad to see that he's on his way
                He's not for Burial today

                Because he's in... he's indisposed
                Because he's in yeah yeah... he's indisposed

                He got hit by a car
                Now he's lying on the tar
                Had an experience bizarre
                Not unlike that makes you laugh ra! ra! hey!

                Glad to see that he's on his way
                He's not for Burial today

                Because he's in... he's indisposed
                Because he's in... he's indisposed
                Because he's in yeah yeah... he's indisposed


                Don't worry, it only seems kinky the first time

                Comment


                • #9
                  For the best, look no further than the Boss at his best on Born to Run:

                  One soft infested summer me and Terry became friends
                  Trying in vain to breathe the fire we was born in
                  Catching rides to the outskirts tying faith between our teeth
                  Sleeping in that old abandoned beach house getting wasted in the heat
                  And hiding on the backstreets, hiding on the backstreets
                  With a love so hard and filled with defeat
                  Running for our lives at night on them backstreets

                  Slow dancing in the dark on the beach at Stockton's Wing
                  Where desperate lovers park we sat with the last of the Duke Street Kings
                  Huddled in our cars waiting for the bells that ring
                  In the deep heart of the night to set us loose from everything
                  to go running on the backstreets, running on the backstreets
                  We swore we'd live forever on the backstreets we take it together

                  Endless juke joints and Valentino drag where dancers scraped the tears
                  Up off the street dressed down in rags running into the darkness
                  Some hurt bad some really dying at night sometimes it seemed
                  You could hear the whole damn city crying blame it on the lies that killed us
                  Blame it on the truth that ran us down you can blame it all on me Terry
                  It don't matter to me now when the breakdown hit at midnight
                  There was nothing left to say but I hated him and I hated you when you went away

                  Laying here in the dark you're like an angel on my chest
                  Just another tramp of hearts crying tears of faithlessness
                  Remember all the movies, Terry, we'd go see
                  Trying to learn how to walk like heroes we thought we had to be
                  And after all this time to find we're just like all the rest
                  Stranded in the park and forced to confess
                  To hiding on the backstreets, hiding on the backstreets
                  We swore forever friends on the backstreets until the end
                  Hiding on the backstreets, hiding on the backstreets.

                  AND

                  The screen door slams
                  Mary's dress waves
                  Like a vision she dances across the porch
                  As the radio plays
                  Roy Orbison singing for the lonely
                  Hey that's me and I want you only
                  Don't turn me home again
                  I just can't face myself alone again
                  Don't run back inside
                  darling you know just what I'm here for
                  So you're scared and you're thinking
                  That maybe we ain't that young anymore
                  Show a little faith, there's magic in the night
                  You ain't a beauty, but hey you're alright
                  Oh and that's alright with me

                  You can hide 'neath your covers
                  And study your pain
                  Make crosses from your lovers
                  Throw roses in the rain
                  Waste your summer praying in vain
                  For a savior to rise from these streets
                  Well now I'm no hero
                  That's understood
                  All the redemption I can offer, girl
                  Is beneath this dirty hood
                  With a chance to make it good somehow
                  Hey what else can we do now
                  Except roll down the window
                  And let the wind blow back your hair
                  Well the night's busting open
                  These two lanes will take us anywhere
                  We got one last chance to make it real
                  To trade in these wings on some wheels
                  Climb in back
                  Heaven's waiting on down the tracks
                  Oh oh come take my hand
                  Riding out tonight to case the promised land
                  Oh oh Thunder Road, oh Thunder Road
                  oh Thunder Road
                  Lying out there like a killer in the sun
                  Hey I know it's late we can make it if we run
                  Oh Thunder Road, sit tight take hold
                  Thunder Road

                  Well I got this guitar
                  And I learned how to make it talk
                  And my car's out back
                  If you're ready to take that long walk
                  >From your front porch to my front seat
                  The door's open but the ride it ain't free
                  And I know you're lonely
                  For words that I ain't spoken
                  But tonight we'll be free
                  All the promises'll be broken
                  There were ghosts in the eyes
                  Of all the boys you sent away
                  They haunt this dusty beach road
                  In the skeleton frames of burned out Chevrolets

                  They scream your name at night in the street
                  Your graduation gown lies in rags at their feet
                  And in the lonely cool before dawn
                  You hear their engines roaring on
                  But when you get to the porch they're gone
                  On the wind, so Mary climb in
                  It's a town full of losers
                  And I'm pulling out of here to win


                  Don't worry, it only seems kinky the first time

                  Comment


                  • #10
                     

                    Agreed.

                    Comment


                    • #11
                      This one is for you Franck .

                      I knew a girl named Nikki
                      I guess you could say she was a sex friend
                      I met her in a hotel lobby
                      masturbating with a magazine
                      she said how'd u like 2 waste sometime
                      & I could not resist when I saw little
                      Nikki gind
                      she took me 2 her castle
                      and I just couldn't believe
                      my eyes
                      she had so many devicees
                      everything that money could buy
                      she said sign your name on the dotted
                      line
                      the lights went out
                      and Nikki started 2 grind
                      The castle started spinning
                      or maybe it was my brain
                      I can't tell you what she did 2 me
                      but my body will never be the same
                      Her lovin will kick your behind
                      she'll show you no mercy
                      but she'll sho'nuff sho'nuff sho a
                      low 2 grind
                      I woke up the next mourning
                      Nikki wasn't there
                      I looked all over
                      all I found was a phone number on the
                      stairs
                      it said thank u 4 a funky time
                      call me whenever u want
                      2 grind
                      come back Nikki come back
                      Your darling little prince
                      wanna grind,grind,grind.

                      Sometimes the world's a storm.
                      One day soon the storm will pass
                      & all will be bright and peaceful.
                      fearlessly bathe in the...
                      Purple Rain

                      Comment


                      • #12
                        Pretty cool when the church organ plays You Can't Always Get What You Want in the Big Chill.

                        But most rock lyrics are pretty lame IMO. But it's not really fair to look at the lyrics in isolation from the music.

                        I think Cole Porter wrote some clever lyrics.

                        You're The Top, one of his simplest, is interesting because it's so simple; just about anyone can easily write new verses.

                        At words poetic, I'm so pathetic
                        That I always have found it best,
                        Instead of getting 'em off my chest,
                        To let 'em rest unexpressed,
                        I hate parading my serenading
                        As I'll probably miss a bar,
                        But if this ditty is not so pretty
                        At least it'll tell you
                        How great you are.

                        You're the top!
                        You're the Coliseum.
                        You're the top!
                        You're the Louver Museum.
                        You're a melody from a symphony by Strauss
                        You're a Bendel bonnet,
                        A Shakespeare's sonnet,
                        You're Mickey Mouse.
                        You're the Nile,
                        You're the Tower of Pisa,
                        You're the smile on the Mona Lisa
                        I'm a worthless check, a total wreck, a flop,
                        But if, baby, I'm the bottom you're the top!

                        Your words poetic are not pathetic.
                        On the other hand, babe, you shine,
                        And I can feel after every line
                        A thrill divine
                        Down my spine.
                        Now gifted humans like Vincent Youmans
                        Might think that your song is bad,
                        But I got a notion
                        I'll second the motion
                        And this is what I'm going to add;

                        You're the top!
                        You're Mahatma Gandhi.
                        You're the top!
                        You're Napoleon Brandy.
                        You're the purple light
                        Of a summer night in Spain,
                        You're the National Gallery
                        You're Garbo's salary,
                        You're cellophane.
                        You're sublime,
                        You're turkey dinner,
                        You're the time, the time of a Derby winner
                        I'm a toy balloon that’s fated soon to pop
                        But if, baby, I'm the bottom,
                        You're the top!

                        You're the top!
                        You're an arrow collar
                        You're the top!
                        You're a Coolidge dollar,
                        You're the nimble tread
                        Of the feet of Fred Astaire,
                        You're an O'Neill drama,

                        You're Whistler's mama!

                        You're camembert.

                        You're a rose,
                        You're Inferno's Dante,

                        You're the nose
                        On the great Durante.
                        I'm just in a way,
                        As the French would say, "de trop".
                        But if, baby, I'm the bottom,
                        You're the top!

                        You're the top!
                        You're a dance in Bali.
                        You're the top!
                        You're a hot tamale.
                        You're an angel, you,
                        Simply too, too, too diveen,
                        You're a Boticcelli,
                        You're Keats,
                        You're Shelly!

                        You're Ovaltine!
                        You're a boom,
                        You're the dam at Boulder,
                        You're the moon,
                        Over Mae West's shoulder,
                        I'm the nominee of the G.O.P.

                        But if, baby, I'm the bottom,
                        You're the top!

                        You're the top!
                        You're a Waldorf salad.
                        You're the top!
                        You're a Berlin ballad.
                        You're the boats that glide
                        On the sleepy Zuider Zee,
                        You're an old Dutch master,

                        You're Lady Astor,
                        You're broccoli!
                        You're romance,
                        You're the steppes of Russia,
                        You're the pants, on a Roxy usher,
                        I'm a broken doll, a fol-de-rol, a blop,

                        But if, baby, I'm the bottom,
                        You're the top!

                        Comment


                        • #13
                          (PigDogg @ Feb. 02 2008,10:35) You're The Top, one of his simplest,  is interesting because it's so simple; just about anyone can easily write new verses.
                          So back in the day, it was fashinable to write risque lyrics to that tune. For instance:

                          You're the top.
                          You're Miss Pinkham's tonic.
                          You're the top.
                          You're a high colonic.
                          You're the burning heat of a bridal suite in use.
                          You're the breasts of Venus,
                          You're King Kong's penis,
                          You're self-abuse!
                          You're an arch from the Rome collection.
                          You're the starch in a groom's erection.
                          I'm a eunuch that has undergone an "op."
                          But if, baby, I'm the bottom, you're the top!

                          Comment


                          • #14
                            Attached Files
                            My Femboys can Beat up your Ladyboys.  

                            Comment


                            • #15
                              I like Punk ,
                              I like Sham ,
                              I got nicked for fighting at West Ham .

                              They dont write them like that anymore

                              Free your mind and your ass will follow .

                              Comment



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