you whispered my name You said you loved me But how could I ever explain such a thing Its the moment you open your eyes While you think that they're
Traduction: Blessé. C'est (une telle chose).
hand met his end He was withered and boney, exposed for a phoney But we heed the last words that he penned Haste to disgrace the traitor. Do not wait til later I don't think that
you is still alive Such a hard way to learn Such a hard way to learn Such a hard way to learn Such a hard way to learn Such a hard way to learn Such
are saying....saying about you There comes a time when one must face the life that you have led That is a hard thing to do when lies is all that has
whip yo hair, but that's Willow fault I speak body language, fuck pillow talk We can wake up 'round noon on a saturday And make a fuckin movie, now that's a
hair, but that's Willow fault I speak body language, fuck pillow talk We can wake up 'round noon on a saturday And make a fuckin movie, now that's a
yo hair, but that's Willow fault I speak body language, fuck pillow talk we can wake up 'round noon on a saturday and make a fuckin movie, now that's a
{Chorus}: And any man who knows a thing knows, he knows not a damn, damn thing at all, And everytime I felt the hurt and I felt the givin' gettin' me
of all the motherfuckers who played you, The irony in that is that I ain't even that, but you coulda been these pages, Wife, you deserve the label but, but, you been hurt
Saying come home Come home I try to understand why it hurts you To see a difference in our points of view Don't blame me for a thing that I didn't do
come home Come home I try to understand why it hurts you To see a difference in our points of view Don't blame me for a thing that i didn't do saying
feel so rough This can't be me, I'm such a happy guy" I laugh a lot but I want to cry A cry for help is just letting go It hurts a lot but I think I know
hey) One day I hope to make it A player in this game Mama don't cry, long as we try Maybe things change Perhaps it's just a fantasy A life where we don
just a little girl (Mama's just a little girl) She gotta hold her head up high [Verse 2: Tupac] At 16 what a beautiful thing The very essence of a
remember, but it hurts I'm walkin through the cemetary talkin to the, dirt I'd rather die like a man, than live like a coward There's a ghetto up in
's what you got to tell him I'm thinking of a picture that's keeping me in stitch you're causing me a mental glitch 'cause jealousy is such a b---- I hereby emancipate myself from that