I was down on the east side On a block with no name When I walked in a movie You were blue, I was game Tell me, did you love it, baby? Did you think
horses win, Do the ladies know? Their perfumes hangin' in the salty air, Do you wanna cross the line? Meet you downtown in good time. In the street they
TIME We're the Main Street Singers and we're here to make a crazy scene... How far out - can Main Street get.......... can Main Street get Whoa...Yeah
Traduction: La récolte de Barclay James. Polk Street Rag.
Traduction: Neige, Hank. Douzième Street Rag.
Traduction: Icicle Works. Hope Street Rag.
zip wit Bash Since everything is big in Texas then where's the zag's? I'm a cross the finish line Tell me where's the flags? Brought my rag top Should
m on the song, Bumpin' like "Bumb-ba-Bump," I'm particularly picky, When it comes to licky licky, Have'em slidin' off them Vickie's quickly, Under the doo-rag
[Z-Ro: talking] 3rd Coast, Screwston Texas Z-Ro, Heavy Rotation, yeah [Z-Ro] I've been running the streets 24 years (look at me) I made it but I'm wanted
Record scratches at end of hook] [Verse 1: Chingy] Chingy Jackpot, "pop" like a crack spot Ladies on the strip, keep me with a fat knot, 'Lac drop Rag
word Got hits but they try to spray me. If I lack, keep strapped it's a rap, gimme dat You can roll wit me, yeah maybe. Hey the streets is mine Like mix
act shitty Singing doo wah diddy diddy dum diddy doo She was from the projects of Liberty City Doo wah diddy diddy dum diddy doo Bangkok Bangkok Rag top rag
soulja like me Everywhere I see, a soulja a soulja Everywhere I see, a soulja like me [Verse 1:Tupac] Posse deep as I roll through the streets Motherfuck
blow you up on the spot, these glocks hot 'til you drop All you wannabe cops, you don't wanna see shots I beef deep with the police peep what these streets
I'm rolling do-do Fuck all y'all Chorus 3x Verse 3 I went from rags to riches quick to socializing with the baddest bitches went from a bucket to a rag
Picture if you will seven deadly human beings blessed with the gift of speech, the power to reach each nigga on every street May the Heavenly Father
the baddest bitches Picture me mobbin in a rag with switches Punk snitch I let a trick be a trick When he slippin, leave em slippin In the middle of the streets
