This World
(uh uh uh)
Bounce (uh uh uh)
Bounce (uh uh)
Bounce (uh uh)
Ryde with me now
yeah (haha)
Supafly muthafucka
Yeah (uh uh)
[Jermaine Dupri]
You know how fly I always look
I keep banging and I keep them off the hook
You know about my peeps and all the lady's I be with
The Blue and Blue Mercedes with the rims and kit
You know about my house and carroners in the fridge
And the ATL shorty this how a nigga live
Besides Cheapy, they call me Mr. Long
You can catch me in the streets in a all pink suit
Leaning to the side, swinging
Back O' The Moon
[ music: Dennis Drew/lyric: Natalie Merchant ]
Jenny
Jenny you don't know the nights I hide
below a second story room
to whistle you down
the man who's let to divvy up
time is a miser
he's got a silver coin
only lets it shine for hours
while you sleep it away
there's one rare and odd style of living
part only known to the everybody Jenny
a comical where's the end parade
of the sort people here would think unusual
Jenny
tonight upon the mock brine of a Luna Sea
far off we sail on to Back O' The Moon
Jenny
Jenny you don't know the days I've tried
telling backyard tales
so to maybe amuse
o your mood is never giddy
if you smile I'm delighted
but you'd rather pout
such a lazy child
you dare fold your arms
tisk and say that I lie
there's one rare and odd style of thinking
part only known to the everybody Jenny
the small step and giant leap takers
got the head start in the race toward it
Jenny
tonight upon the mock brine of a Luna Sea
far off we sail on to the Back O' The Moon
that was a sigh
but not meant to envy you
when your age was mine
some things were sworn true
morning would come
and calendar pages had
new printed seasons on
their opposite sides
Jenny
Jenny you don't know the nights I hide
below a second story room
to whistle you down
o the man who's let to divvy up
time is a miser
he's got a silver coin
lets it shine for hours
while you sleep it away
there's one rare and odd style of living
part only known to the everybody Jenny
out of tin ships jump the bubble head boys
to push their flags into powdered soils and cry
no second placers
no smart looking geese in bonnets
dance with pigs in high button trousers
no milk pail for the farmer's daughter
no merry towns of sweet walled houses
here I've found
Back O' the Moon
not here
I've found
Back O' the Moon