Prince Ali (From "Aladdin") [Piano] - Slumbering Tapes

Smash bam bif boom crack Party still goin' six in the mornin' Jim Beam, Courvoisier and Jack We're goin' down I need some fuel I need some fuel I need some fuel to run I need some fuel to run Yo Zeke stop! At the liquor store We want some more I'd like to introduce you to my fifth That's who I'm with I need some fuel I need some fuel I need some fuel to run I need some fuel to run I need some fuel to run I need some fuel to run I'm free to exercise my downward mobility I'm free to exercise my downward mobility My downward mobility I need some fuel to run I need some fuel to run I need some fuel to run I need some fuel to run

Mama's in the kitchen Papa's on the porch Junior's downstairs in the basement Passin' on freedom's torch They're busy fighting Fillin' all the jails But sure as the sun do shine in the mornin'-- There's drugs on sale They're getting wasted Wasted They're getting wasted Wasted in America Something's gone wrong with the TV generation I am the product of that situation So you say you're feelin' Pinhead frustration C'mon join the nation They're getting wasted Wasted They're getting wasted Wasted in America Don't ask me why things are the way they are They just are I don't know why People are so curious They wanna chase it They wanna taste it They wanna get wasted They're getting wasted Wasted They're getting wasted Wasted in America They're getting wasted in New Jersey Wasted in Illinois Wasted in California And the Texans say "You 'all" Wasted in America They're getting wasted in America They're getting wasted in America

Throbbing pulsating gyrating hyperventilating 'Til we pass out on the floor Met a little girl with no bloomers on When she showed me her fake i.d. i knew something was wrong She said let's dance Said i got a wooden leg Said i'd like to see you on your knees She's cuddly wuddly wuddly too She's cuddly wuddly wuddly got a hold on you Yeah you got a reputation for coming on strong Now you're leanin' up against my dang-a-lang-a-lang-a-lang Here we go to your bungalow Boyfriend's on the road Put the spit on Put the spit on Get a little nervous What can a poor boy say 'Bout a girl that fucks a different guy each and every day But she's cuddly wuddly wuddly Too bad You don't dig dudes that play guitar You got a thing for drummers You got a thing for men with scars Put the spit on Put the spit on Put the spit on Throbbing pulsating gyrating hyperventilating 'til we pass out On the floor Put the spit on Put the spit on Put the spit on Put the spit on Put the spit on Put the spit on

The girl next door knows the score She wants more than foreplay She don't follow fashion She won't do what you say Miss America I really want you to make you feel like you're a queen Miss America I really want to make you feel like you've been seen Little lassie Trouble maker Date breaker Soul shaker too If I had one wish I'd make the whole world true blue Miss America I really want you to make you feel like you're a queen Miss America I really want to make you feel like you've been seen From the mountains to the sea There's a girl who wants to be In the valley burning cities There's a woman She gets a little tired when she drinks wine She gets worn down Relax Miss America I really want you to make you feel like you're a queen Miss America I really want to make you feel like you're a queen Miss America I really want ya

Bimbo beauties beckoning Fizzy banger Said she's a sanger-screwdriver Mrs. Phillips gives head for bottlecaps On the ceiling painted frescoes never lie Wild flowers growing on Happy hour A dyed blonde sacrificial lamb Died during happy hour How far would you drive How far would you drive To rock in another man's grave We went down to Disneyland Mickey died in vain Wild flowers growing on Happy hour There's a time of day Where everything is all right Happy hour There's a point in space Where you don't have to fight Happy hour Happy hour Bimbo beauties beckoning Fizzy banger Said she's a... How far would you drive How far would you drive Fireflies play leapfrog on the sheets Purple spots on your t-bar Tell me what your money buys Wild flowers growing on Wild flowers growing on Happy hour Happy hour Happy hour

Her name was aphrodisia She put me in a spell She told all her friends I could do her well Took her in the alley Laid her on the trash Then she told me everything Put your corner on working girl Smudged makeup around your eyes First you want it get You want it come and get it You need it all the time Nymphomaniac in black She wants your peaches But all you get is cream All you get is cream All you get is Put your red dress on working girl Got another spot on your dress First you hold me You hurt me You bite me Then you burn me You work me overtime Nymphomaniac in black She wants your peaches But all you get is cream All you get is cream All you get is cream How many times can I say that I want you How many times can I pass you by And dare I look inside the sullen door of many colors Thousands of seed lights glowing inside my head And I can't... Put your corner on working girl Smudged makeup around your eyes First you want it get it You want it come and get it You want it all the time Nymphomaniac in black She wants your peaches But all you get is cream All you get is cream Nymphomaniac in black She wants your peaches But all you get is cream All you get is cream All you get is cream And so I walked on down the hall And found myself passionless and not quite able To take myself seriously Now you and I know that I know that you know That everybody around me is lyin' and cryin' and dyin'

A million miles, common sense Can't hide the reader, can't fill the trench And what you hide is what I sold And when you're next to me, the feeling's cold Don't tread lightly In the book at the age of stills You make congress, congress Up in the mount on the sea of chills You went tireless, tireless I will walk alone Take toll, take time, and turn your face Dismount your wall, disband your state The tides of thought are blowing in the wind We'll stretch our seed to the beaches of the fins The path is clear, we'll keep clear on the side And make our beds in the beds of others Don't talk lightly In the book at the age of stills You make congress, congress Up in the mount on the sea of chills You went tireless, tireless I will walk alone Through miles and miles of bones When you touch me I'm alone When you tease me I'm alone In the battle of the bones In the battle of the bones I'll be up and coming on I'll be up and holding strong We'll be holding up for long We'll be holding up for long You'll be hiding from our deeds On the whole and on your knees You will hide your women Hide your women, hide your women In the book at the age of stills You make congress, congress Up in the mount on the sea of chills You went tireless, tireless You've been running in for the kill Look down to the south and onto the fields I've been a rider, I've been a shill For conquest, conquest I will walk alone Through miles and miles of bones We'll up our highness off our shyness Bring it to your home