Traduction: Tabata. C'est mon erreur.
Traduction: Tabata. Temblando.
(feat. RA Diggs, Uncle Murda) [Chorus:] Live by the gun, I'm a die by the gun [x3] A n-gga shoot at me, so you know I'm shootin back! Live by the gun
(Phone ringing) (Fifty) Aww man...who the fuck is callin'?.. I don't even wanna answer this shit...Hello? (Man on phone) Whattup nigga it's Black remember
[50 Cent:] Yeah this is just my intro Its serious man this is Sirius Radio right here GGGGG Unit Radio Shady ha ha ha Just givin' 'em a little somethin
Sans ce penchant pour une personne L'etre aime Sans les ailes que ca vous donne D'etre aime On reste au ras des paquerettes Au ras des paquerettes Sans
Well, he ran around Late at night Holding hands And making light Of everything That came before But there she was Behind the door She hit them with her
Father, i have come. To tell you about somethin' i done. Well as the night reared its light head Into a baby's sun, We rolled down into the town
"If you will suck my soul I will lick your funky emotions" This is the stylin' for a little that sounds silly But nothin' silly about triflin' times
Yo ! Gun ou Mike une evidence J'rap et l'evidence Comme tu sais gros Nouvelle annee 2005 Yo ! Look at the cuff for Numa-Numa Et n'oubli pas gars, mon
Every day I see you looking in I'll be the smoothest thing to touch your skin You're longing to be loved but you're alone And your longing makes you shiver
Blue boy go get your gun Hands together we can have some fun Out tonight and the beat goes on Blue boy go get your gun Hands together we can have some
Honesty, is better than putting you to sleep. No one ever told me how many nights it would take to make it right. You're on your own now. And I hate the
Brother Man nowadays living in the ghetto Where the danger's sure enough real Well when he's out late at night and if he's got his head on right Well
Hey you with your feet on the ceiling looking so reviling with the time you're killing like a greyhound bus with the stops you're making and the lives
On the tip of my tongue an offensive is poised and rearing My intention a bullet, my body a trigger finger And my pen is a pistola Let go of your
