my pocket That I didn't know I had. I didn't trust. That there were people like you in this world. But I guess. That's what tears are for. This
ترجمة: سويفت. ما هي للدموع.
We about to tear stuff up, y'all feel good? Yo, what the hell y'all wanna do, Syndicate, tonight, what you wanna do? (Party!) Randy Mac in the place to be, what
an interview not you two) You gonna be late for soundcheck Man I ain't goin' to soundcheck But our mics are screwed up and his always sound best You know what
This is how it goes Give me your attention, stop what you're doin and listen up Because my partner in rhyme is about to tear it up Jeff, is if someone
Some DJ's are good, some DJ's are fresh Some DJ's are even def But here's a little somethin' about my DJ The magnificent Jazzy Jeff so bust this beat,
safe To make a name for yourself, the blows delf You get stripped for your belt, run your garments Feather-weights don't know what you involve in Revolvin
, not you two You gon' be late for sound check Man, I ain't goin' to sound check But our mics are screwed up And his always sound best You know what
were happy Oh, I hate those voices Telling me I'm not in love anymore But they don't give me choices And that's what these tears are for 'Cause we were
true Loop my voice on the LP, martini on the slang rocks Certified chatterbox, vocabulary 'Donna talkin' Tell your story walkin' Take cover kid, what? Run for your brother, kid Run for
your whole brain on checkmate Rob Swift is his name, with Akineyle in the game You're best to maintain, as we aim for your brain as we aim for your
performance But we in a van and he in a tour bus You don't want my autograph youse a liar And nah I'm Swift (Oh I thought you were Kuniva) What the hell
(laughing) Stop You want me to do what? What are those? You want me to stick those in what? [Chorus: Bizarre] What is on your nasty mind? (Nasty
Gotta what yo, gotta get a ruffneck Gotta what yo, gotta get a ruffneck Gotta what yo, gotta get a ruffneck I need a ruffneck I need a dude with attitude
swift of glaucoma Black jeans, black Timbs, black Benz roaster Smoke rise, out the sun roof when I roll up Verrazano, with no relation to Gravano Carlo, shots are
in here at night (what the fuck!? who the fuck!? ) (that what it's all about, zu zu zu zu) (yea, hahahahaah. lions and tigers and bears) (that's what
a smooth talker Appeal to feel but don't praise and kneel, just heal And always look for the seal thats real Top dog, lookin up to say what is this Kid
