do right now Is blow your motherfuckin' horns, louder, louder Yo, if you want that shit (That shit) That hardcore rough shit (Rough shit) Motherfuckers, blow your horns
and I'm fuckin' you The rest of these broads ain't knowin' That I'm a have you bumpin' Lauryn, in somethin' foreign Come thru blow the horn Stick your
little Sir John and the nut-brown bowl Proved the strongest man at last The huntsman, he can't hunt the fox Nor so loudly to blow his horn And the tinker
Maceo, blow your horn Y'all know who that is? Act like you know Say, "Maceo blow your horn" (Maceo blow your horn) (Maceo blow your horn) (Maceo blow
sound you not the horn said he Lest our coming it would betray Now there was a man in lord barnard's train Who loved the little musgrave And he blew his horn
in hand Go blow them ram horns, Joshua cried 'Cause the battle is in my hands Then the lamb ram sheep horns began to blow The trumpets began to sound
tell When a John got jazzed By a Jezebel You can't beat the house You can't beat the house Tell the man, somebody You can't beat the house When these horn
! Now blow your horn,Louis Everybody party down to Louisiana Everybody jam (Hey,hey, whaddaya say?) Everybody come and take a ride with me (Scatting by Scatman John
two stones (Chorus) (Chorus) And the huntsman he can't hunt the fox nor loudly blow his horn And the tinker he can't mend his pots without John Barleycorn
hunt the fox Nor loudly blow his horn And the tinker, he can't mend his pots Without John Barleycorn John Barleycorn, John Barleycorn Barleycorn, Barleycorn John Barleycorn, John
you hear the whistle blowing Dinah, blow your horn Dinah, won't you blow Dinah, won't you blow Dinah, won't you blow your horn Dinah, won't you blow
hear the whistle blowing Dinah, blow your horn Dinah won't you blow Dinah won't you blow Dinah, won't you blow your horn Dinah, won't you blow, Dinah
There's a thing creepin' in the woods, Like an ill wind that blows no good, Women and children begin to howl, When the moon-dog is on the prowl. Chorus
the sword Wettin' cream, I ain't wettin' fame Fame is the measure, rap celebs The place where stars are born The saints marched in, Kurtis Blowing his horn
little Sir John and the nut brown bowl Proved the strongest man at last The huntsman he can't hunt the fox Nor so loudly to blow his horn And the tinker
ago" "Ms. Billie, Ms. Billie, Ms. Billie Holiday" [HORNS] [drum roll] [piano keys played] [HORNS] "Byrd..?" [trumpet solo] [group horns] [Guru] "The music called jazz.." [HORNS
' you The rest of these broads ain't knowin' That i'm a have you bumpin' Lauryn, in somethin' foreign Come thru blow the horn Stick your wrists out the
