I found my place in the sun Lied my way there I've looked in your eyes I'm coming clean I've made up my mind I've made up my mind To lie would be to
Traduction: Get Up Kids. Coming Clean.
i found my place in the sun, lied my way there. i've looked in youre eyes, i'm coming clean. i've made up my mind. to lie would be to compromise and
clock news You ride in a what (what's up), don't get it fucked up Or twisted, cause you'll get it twisted and fucked up And die in that truck (be cautious
Tim the only ones that make pimpin look easy Tell me how I'm gonna make my album cleaner With bitches suckin me up like vacuum cleaners Even chickens
Ride this clean yea, summers gonna appose you, Please don't make me be the someone that expose you, (Word Word!) I snatch yea kids, or someone that you
to keep it clean Do it like a kids movie Homie keep it G PG-13, TV big screen Been getting money since the boy was 15 But I spend it when I get it (q)
Trying to support three kids, so she stay coming out her jeans Getting pimped, by somebody that still live with they mama But that's the only way she know, to get
fuck You cross that thin line, and you will get touched 1-8-7 I'm telling you, one time is enough Leave your kids at home, cause it might get rough I
and crooked cops, the only way to stop the beasts And only we can change, it's up to us to clean up the streets It ain't the same Too many murders
, when I flip, with my thirty-eight Revenge is a bitch, and my hit shake the murder rate Word to the mutha, I'm touched When moms come by, niggaz hush or get
know how I get down, I'm fresh out the pound NYPD crit the flip, get on some New York undercover shit Fuck wit dogs you ain't familiar wit, and get bit
he wants to sleep in till eight If I don't remind him it's time to get up He tells me it's my fault he's late Now I clean up the kitchen till noontime
up at the Indian part of the town The town's shut down, the people left with their bags Their kids so there's not a sound a sound But I must get from
of finding so much more) But I'm never dividing the bread Bitch I bet I get the debit if I don't get the cred (I deserve) Throwin' westside up like
they love you again Get away from me loniless Get away from me misery Get away from me fake shit, I can't take the phoniness Get away from me wack tracks
[Krayzie] Who be the niggas that's sneakin' the pistol up in the party Drinkin' that 151 Bacardi Drunk and finna fuck up somebody... (Bone Thugs) Keepin
