De La Soul - CBGBS

Beach boy bonanza, sun rise, get up
Surfin' on the curb from inception of a set up
Planet of black granite, halos above it
The autopsy can't top me, beloved
Dissect survival, passed on the whisper
Placed on the mother crew shouting, now it's the
Boys who shot joy inside the violent
Hell from New York with a mars inside it
From the bottom of the deck, who got squashed
They call us the a little coke cheese, let's get the engine, baby
I reverend like Run, the squint in the sun
I bet you bottom dollar I get louder in the barn
A PH balance son I walk the phenom
Like typo, might go, dope in the stacks
Crooked counterfeits, we keep it straight cash
Crooked counterfeits, keep it straight cash
Crooked counterfeits, keep it straight cash
Crooked counterfeits, straight cash
Cash
Cash

You're a peanut with a cashew

Written by:
John David Chegwidden, Joshua Matthew Lopez, David J. Jolicoeur, Vincent L. Mason, Kelvin Mercer, David Nathaniel West, David Patrick Palmer, Ethan Phillips, Matthew Reynolds Demerritt, Jordan Katz, Alan Mark Lightner

Publisher:
Lyrics © Wixen Music Publishing, JELLYBEAN MUSIC GROUP, INVERTED MUSIC UK LTD, Exploration Group LLC, Hipgnosis Songs Group

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