| 6:30 come, I’m waiting on the floor
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| Waiting for me Mary, no, Mary Tyler Moore
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| I love her, she love no one else
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| I say, I could be your master, you could serve yourself
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| I do this thing, I do, I run inside your brain
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| I know you can’t feel it 'cause you feel no the pain
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| I say a 1, a 1, 2, 3
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| Diggity-doo, come and watch
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| Oh, na, na, na
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| Feels good when it should
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| Oh, na, na, na
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| (Another junkie in the neighborhood)
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| One lost soul drifting out to sea
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| But if ya got vanilla style
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| (Bo, bo)
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| It feels good, that’s understood, but don’t forget
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| No love for pepper posse and I’ll make that bet
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| That you ain’t got no style, ain’t got no reggae
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| And there are words that I just don’t say
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| Take a pick, you’ve got a selection
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| But if you want some of this protection
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| Oh, na, na, na
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| Feels good, when it should
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| Sit back it takes a while
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| Listen, there are stories tales and lies
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| Some attract rumors, some attract lies
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| Got this coffee, so bring me your cup
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| One more pot so we can stay up
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| Understand, that there must be more in this band
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| You think you could, well I know I can
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| So watcha want, paper or plastic?
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| Take all you need 'cause we’re sick of that shit |