All deserters will be shot at 5 o'clock tomorrow morning So get yourselves together and quit messing around, no more nonsense The assassination occurred
All deserters will be shot at 5 o'clock tomorrow morning so get yourselves together and quit messing around No more nonsense! The assassination occurred
ترجمة: أبواب. الخيط العقلية.
ترجمة: أبواب. العقلية الخيط (يعيش في مسرح الدلو ، هوليوود ، 1970).
: All deserters will be shot at 5 o'clock tomorrow morning so get yourselves together and quit messing around No more nonsense! The assassination occurred
Contortion began to spread to scorchin Featherweights came with the enforcements And forced the enforcements I'm forcin And open the doors, let all the
? Where my thugs at? Show me where my thugs at Where my thugs at? Show me where my thugs at Now why should locs give a fuck? What? Nigga my mental's
, penetrated Ms. Sophisticated, no, Daddy hate it Never met a nigga quite as fly as me All bottled up in your high society You want to check my mental
side Jealousy inside, make 'em wish I died Oh my Lord, tell me what I'm livin' for Everybody's droppin' got me knockin' on heaven's door And all my
worker on the job to you Or maybe I'm the one, who was plottin' to rob you The fear of this beat down, the women on no cash to floss Makes most of y
bartender all into your mental Sittin' at the bar ventures force injure More injure pretenders the inventor of plenty other dullage Your loving buzzin' at your door
Streets Meet your defeat; this is my Robbin Hood Theory... my Robbin Hood Theory Verse Two: Guru I floss my rhymes like dentals, my mental's presidential
streets Meet your defeat; this is my robbin hood theory... my robbin hood theory Verse two: guru I floss my rhymes like dentals, my mental's presidential
a bartender all into your mental Sittin at the bar ventures force injure More injure pretenders the inventor of plenty other dullage (?) Your loving buzzin at your door
no results And you can treat your nose and still won't come close The game is a lightbulb with eleventy-million volts And I'm just a mark, addicted to the floss And doors
