Lyrics Oprah - Rob Sonic

Oprah

Now you get a car
And you get a car
And you get a car
And you get a car
And you get a car
And you get a car
And you get a car
And you get a car
Tickets for the gun show, late for the fight
Get in with the cutthroat, make with the nice
Take in the sights as you aim at the floor
Sleep with one eye open and away from the door
Now that you’ve curved third finger on the bell
Death out of oil and some poisons to sell
Boil down his tears from the years that he spent
Hearing ghosts and the omens slowly cheers-ing his death
The clock major dollar holler bad girl party hat
Dante nirvana’s on a flat world army tat
with the starter coat
Hunter down the the starburst into artichoke
funky bunch, glass eye, fish food
Domicile, Gomer Pyle, Joker smile, chip tooth
Rip roof, drop top, foxy brown, locker meat
pay the man or Abraham’s
Tried to find a better way, but now I just don’t give a fuck
Inside I’m dead as zen and outside I’m the villain’s dunce
Filling up his tank, got the blankets in the Jennifer
on his roof top, and the anglers for the wrestlers
Messengers bloodied up, guppy hunt, carol fish
Money tree, fire fox, China shop, Marilyn
Derelict, satellite schools for the wasted youth
Fibers turn to tigers and incisors into sabertooths
Now you get a car
And you get a car
And you get a car
And you get a car
And you get a car
And you get a car
And you get a car
And you get a car
Teacher once told him that the camels and graft
Wasn’t much different from the handful’s of crack
In the sandals and sash from his pumas and skips
In the waitress from the famous but a few months of tips
Momma once told him there’d be days where he wishes he
Hadn’t left the bed or took his breakfast to Tiffany
wins it all, but always holds the butter wrong
And in between the 9 to 5 he idolize the somersault
Rounded up from nothing and got overdrawn
Peppercorn bop like he spastic or its live action Techeun Force
Begging for his space, but got issues when he separate
Money from the love and the gators from the Everglades
Never make dough off the music that he started on
But everything that he read is some pretty shit, Barbara Zon
daily to prevailing get it ruined by
Rappers that say they don’t rapping Cadillac’s with suicide
Doors on the low ride, home fry, rough him up
Olly olly oxygen
It is dark, hell is warm, also where the children go
To practice how to catfish on the graphics with the silicone
Million ways for you to choose whichever way you wanna go
More racks on the door cracks or a Rorschach with a rubber hose
Summer clothes, packed up, safe keep, snorkel time
From where we keep creating it and basing with them porcupines
Now you get a car
And you get a car
And you get a car
And you get a car
And you get a car
And you get a car
And you get a car
And you get a car