Paroles:
Pretty Things Come Home Momma

black Enters doctor pessimism, no one called him. He sips his tea, demands his fee, Offers not one word of comfort to those grieving. Come home momma

Q] It's a shame, but this game baby I got it in me, ain't no lame when it comes to women I'm all up in 'em Sing a song, take 'em home, make 'em moan,

Uhh.. dear Mr. President Whas happenin? I'm writin you because, s**t is still real f**ked up in my neighborhood Pretty much the same way, right around

only 2 things that are cute and that's squirells and little puppy dogs. Whoo! I tell ya what, I hate wearing this thing, its like kissing your great

up in my bed I told dad you didn't mean those nasty things you said You fight about money, bout me and my brother And this I come home to, this is my

im one of a kind and ill shock your mind ill put t-t-tickets in your behind i said 1-2-3-4, come on girls get on the floor a-come alive, yall a-gimme

a hot, home cooked breakfast Delicious and piping hot In only 3 microwave minutes Are you kidding? Yo, pretty packages of frosted delights Look, it comes

, be on the news Iron cuffs, arms through it or stuffed with embalmin' fluid Shit, I'm goin' through it, mom dukes too Tears streamin' down her pretty

pretty boys had them gals, spend their time flirting All the wanted was some waves, like they fucking surfing Hold up now don't get it twisted, I aint hating do your thing