gotta make a promise That you gone put it on me, like no ones put it on me Don't bore me, just show me, all men talk but don't please I can be a tease
! Your pretty face! And don't underestimate the importance of body language! Ha! The men up there don't like a lot of blabber They think a girl who gossips is a bore
one knee! Now, try your best to stay calm Brush up your sunday salaam The come and meet his spectacular coterie Prince Ali! Mighty is he! Ali Ababwa Strong as ten regular men
doesn?t do much for her It?s not that she?s not pretty She could have brought some cowboy home But the last time that she did, it only bored her Well
very gay places Those come what may places Where one relaxes on the axis Of the wheel of life To get the feel of life From jazz and cocktails All the men
young and smiling, climbing up my hill. [We are not alike, probably I'd bore him] [He's a cautious Frenchman, I'm a little hick] Younger men than I,
girl He took her away for an hour every sunday And cut all of her beautiful curls She was always easy seven days of the week Now she?s a bore and I?ve
bout to do this shit. Body this shit! Yeah, Blackwall Street niggas, the black Jim Hoffa, that's me. Chec, chec, check Yo... [Verse:] Ayo these rap niggas bore
health Such a lonely droa?d in the company of men I'm in a mood to kill them all How dull his life was, performing daily choices. It bored him His
[Intro: (numerous men speaking)] (Peace, quiet and good order will be maintained in our city to the best of our ability. Riots, melees and disturbances
The villagers are out tonight uptight and bored they're pushing you underground on wintry days they stand and gaze outlines in black and ignorant villagers
this was the reason that,long ago, In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud,chilling My ANNABEL LEE; So that her high-born kinsmen came And bore
you help us, pretty please?" And I help them! Yes I do! The men up there don't like a lot of blabber They think a girl who gossips is a bore! Yes on
whole world's on fire Things keep blowing the hell up And while all those rubber neckers and lucky louies stand and slackjaw's staring The real men have
verse to the murder record, the Grand Finale [Lennox speaking - movie dialogue] Who wan' test me, c'mon! Me shot pussy-hole fi fun [Nas Escobar] Hot corners, cops with warrants, every block is boring