| Went downtown on the two fourtynine,
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| play’n for recognition of the New York town.
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| See, me and the boys got a rock 'n' roll band;
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| they were so damn good, gonna lift up the man.
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| Well, we got ups, we got downs,
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| we got just so high till the sun goes down.
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| Got the ego, can be abused;
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| I got my two-toned shoes,
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| and I can sing the blues.
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| Look out, kids, it’s the F B I;
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| we got a problem, you keep me high.
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| Put on your clothes, take the smile off your face
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| and put your money where your mouth is or get out this place.
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| New York town is a meanass town,
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| we got a thousand bands singin' underground.
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| Way down in New Orleans it’s the same old thing;
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| emotion’l music a merry old thing.
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| Old King Soul, he final’y gave us a jolt;
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| he played the vibes till nine and read from ten to four.
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| He played upside down, he played inside out;
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| then a uniform band he was thrown into jail.
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| Look out, kids, it’s the F B I;
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| we got a problem, you keep me high.
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| Put on your clothes, take the smile off your face
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| and put your money where your mouth is or get out this place.
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| Gettin' hungry I know little woman,
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| can’t get a smell 'cause my nose is blocked.
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| I’m so high, I can’t believe it;
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| hotel dogs are knockin' on my door.
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| Two night of singin' nearly out on the end,
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| left the two parts red, oh what a square.
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| As soon as the man, there’s no sweeter song,
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| listen, Mc Cartney, we’re the band on the run.
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| Look out, kids, it’s the F B I;
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| we got a problem, you keep me high.
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| Put on your clothes, take the smile off your face
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| and put your money where your mouth is or get out this place.
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| Oh yeah |