Tanya Stephens - More Music lyrics

rate me

(Intro)

Ladies and gentlemen, tonight I wanna talk about

Something that's bugging me

And from our conversations I see it's been buggin' you too

See, I luv the good old days

But I don't wanna be stuck in them

I want the opportunity to fall in love with something totally new

(Verse)

When did the musicians get so much bigger than the music

More sophisticated the technology, the less creative we use it

Everybody talks a good one, not plenty bout it to prove it

And when you take your inspiration for granted

Oh, you are never tempted to use it

(Chorus)

Gimme more music, less talk, more bite, oh

And a lil less bark, don't you tear drop until it's fire

Add a lil more spark, less stress, let's be honest

Less BS, let's be honest, we could use a little more heart

(Interlude)

Now we've been manufactured in these clothes

Anybody got the same sounds

It seems we've stopped making a ? as an Odisseys

And Gradyses and James Browns

I think, my brothers, take a break from fucking hoes

Get on your fucking toes, pick up a paper and write

Cuz every time I wanna hear something that speaks of my pain

It's a shame, I gotta listen to somebody, right

(Verse 2)

Can't you hear me beggin'? I wanna stop bootleggin', but I need you to try

See, I'm yo biggest fan, and I got this money in my hand

Please, gimme something to buy

The next time you show me yo booty, stripper

You betta give me some sex

Next time you talk about yo money, negro

You betta write me a check

Yeah, I know I'm buggin', but I'm bored, and I'm a bitch

So entertaining muthafuckas, that's what we made you be

(Chorus)

Gimme more music, less talk, more bite, oh

And a lil less bark, don't you tear drop until it's fire

Add a lil more spark, less stress, let's be honest

Less BS, let's be honest, we could use a little more heart

(Interlude)

See, it's a beating path

We all start off as nobodies, tryna be all our best friends

We support you, when you hit the red carpet and lose touch

Don't know how to connect with us again

But as soon as you shit bombs

You're back on all fours tryna persuade us to spend

Well, I think it's time for sick twisted private(?) centered relations

To come to a muthafuckin' end

See, there will never be another Smokie, or Marvin

And betta right, that's my gyal

No new Millie Jackson, definitely no otha Whitney

No otha Michael, what we got is a bunch of models

Who are tryna sell us parfume, and clothes

And I don't mind buyin' all of that shit

But shouldn't I at least hear some music from some of these hoes?

Tell me, when was the last time you heard of Barry White?

Or Carly Thomas? And Etta James, and Isaac Hayes

All we got is a bunch of knock off samplin' shit

Pretendin' to be clever

These is the last days