Paroles:
Running Shoes

I don't miss the snow It's the first day I don't wear my big boots You hold my hand, I've got burgundy shoes Burgundy shoes, burgundy shoes, sun

So I stood by the roadside The soles of my running shoes gripping The tarmac like gunmetal magnets Fixed on the front of her Fassbinder face Was the kind

Traduction: Roger. Chaussures de course.

We wait for the bus that's going to Bangor In my plaid dress and burgundy shoes In your red lipstick and lilac kerchief You're the most pretty lady in

: late afternoon, the sun's going down i ca-ca-call on your cell (why's he in such a hurry) leaving the room, he's mumbling, too asking for his shoes

Bentleys That's right stupid! Soon as they couped it, I went and scooped it Now I'm on the move, on the move Running the City, something like Diddy At

When I get old I'm a be real cool Sittin on the porch with a fresh pair of shoes Whole bunch of stories for the neighborhood kids Tell em to believe that

to find out, how to go from scraps to cash Remember, how y'all use to chase me home from school Just cause I sported corduroy britches, and Pro Wing shoes

of ya Me and Dougie, my motherfucking brother R.I.P., to my motherfucking mother That's the Dorothy Marie McVay Matthew There's ten toes planted, in my motherfucking shoe