Meinhart Maur (18 August 1891 – 1964) was a German film actor. He appeared in 44 films between 1919 and 1954. He was born in Hajdúnánás, Hungary and died in London, England.
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Pack Up Your Troubles is a 1932 Laurel and Hardy film directed by George Marshall and Raymond McCarey, named after the World War I song "Pack Up Your Troubles in Your Old Kit-Bag, and Smile, Smile, Smile." It is the team's second feature-length picture.
The film begins in 1917 with Stan (Stan Laurel) and Ollie (Oliver Hardy) being drafted into the American Expeditionary Force to fight in World War I. The two mess up badly during drilling, antagonizing the drill sergeant and wind up in kitchen duties. Misunderstanding the cook's instructions on disposing of the garbage cans results in dumping the garbage in the general's private dining room. While in prison, they are threatened by the cook (George Marshal), also jailed due to their "snitching", with violence, once he is out and has his knife again. While serving in the trenches of France, the pair befriend a man named Eddie Smith, who is killed in action by the Imperial German Army.In the same battle, the boys manage to capture several enemy soldiers, in a rather unusual way.
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Pack Up Your Troubles is a 1939 American comedy film directed by H. Bruce Humberstone and written by Lou Breslow and Owen Francis. The film stars Jane Withers, The Ritz Brothers, Lynn Bari, Joseph Schildkraut, Stanley Fields, Fritz Leiber and Lionel Royce. The film was released on October 20, 1939, by 20th Century Fox.
From the gate what you know about rapping motherfucker
You can't even hold the microphone without it feedbacking
Since the days of speed rapping I've been snapping cats spinal bones
(em)barras them in front of women take their little titles home
Bear in mind I come from an era in time
Where you actually had to have lyrics that rhyme
Let my baritone grind your insides, paralyse your cerebellum
Throw with your reality out of a nine mit?
Flip shit, on some pimp shit, on some rock shit
Some rap rock testosterone rip shit
Look inside every magazine you read about me
Got an excerpt, your sissy ass crew's afraid to say the fucking f-word
Tired of playing games, I don't know the password
How's about this open up the damn cash drawer
Throw the keys on the dashboard
Let the real players play this shit
Yah can fucking wretch up?
[Chorus]
Pack up get started walking
Fall back now on your losses
You can't accomplish
But you won't defeat no contest baby
Forfeit don't rock the call pit???
Chalk this up as a conquest
Some things is sacred
I don't play with my stage or my audience
Smooth talking charismatic ass ill
Talk you lady outta bra
Honda hatchback hand held y'all starved
And I'm dangling a shrimp by the fan tail
Whole audience about to fall over the handrail
I can't tell is that rapping?
Dude sound like a fucking parrot just crash landed
Man this shit is ass backwards these days real crazy
I can count on one hand cats that's truly creative
And the rest is all get along go along guys
Happy not to get involved just along for the ride
No vision, no drive, spirit or wherewithal
You can get mad and stay mad at that I don't care at all
Huge parafoils keep em cool under a parasol
Paragon of my era like sarah born?
How many different kinda tracks have y'all heard me on
Exactly and I served them all
[Chorus]
I spent ten years in these god forsaken rap trenches
With small daily victories this shits a game of inches
I sustained minor injuries scuffles with the missus
For the chance to make history I don't regret it for a minute
Seeing cats drop a small fortune on plush ride blau?
Couple years later fools is upside down
Tell me what the fuck did you get in this game for
It's like a whole world of squirrels only one acorn
I don't usually like to take it back
But realistically if this was a different era
Y'all would fail miserably
Ghetto team I'm going in, take me down fifty feet
I never let this industry put me in the guillotine
Rapelle down the skyscraper kicking in the plexiglass
Plastique on the safe boom blown to Leningrad
Stuff the cash and the formula in the fifty bag
Slide down the rope, twenty stories hail a taxi cab