a little game I liked to crawl back in my brain I think you know the game I mean I mean the game called 'Go Insane' Now you should try this little game
Traduction: The Doors. Un petit jeu.
It was I meant, they be like hey man... Little... shirt, little... jeans, little... hat That will be the shit, whether like that, singing like this, yeah, yeah, yeah That will be a
and bracelet this flooded, and a cross this sick? So why wouldn't I get it homes (I mean) To a nigga gettin' money like myself, a little brain that's
Timberland boxes of plenty yay, more squares than? Our records carry? like a Fendi case. Huuhh! Four five meetings make a long day Rap LeBron James 23 a whole ball game
five but I'm running behind I try and live a little go and have a little fun You only young once so all the hatin that be dumb If life a joke then I'
a four door ride Be more fly, 'till then I'll just soar by With a wave I'm a bad indicate Sit back in the shade While I'm passin' the haze Misbehave and I'm a
s blood on the hands, there's blood on the floor. It runs down the hallway and out of the door Into the street it joins a little more...
A Damn Albino Drunk Like A Whino Hard Like A Rhino Flyin' Through Ya Time Zone Lookin' For A Fine Hoe Rihanna, Alicia, Mya, Big Pimpin' I'll Even Take A
to see your pussy, bitch you got me so wrong I might spend a little here, spend a little there Never spend any of it on pussy, I'm a real player Early
bleed fake nails and fake hair on down to your thighs aint nothin but imatation your whole life is a lie you need to slow down and get a grip on yourself
't hesitate to seel you an underground tape Fuck the straight and the narrow I be crooked than a bitch Slide through the door sideways with a mask and some clips With a
with the rocks, I bleed red like the flesh It ain't no more hoops, just candy Coupes rings filed in the STS Little young got a gun and beam, and I make
it cracking B One said "ain't you that boy that be on BET?" "Ya that's me, Ching-a-ling equipped wit much ding-a-ling" Knock on the door I'm on the scene
word you mean I was a little pest who never took a hint could never take a hint you pinched my fingers in a door tossed my coloring book in a
selling your flags but who gets the dough at the end of the day we saw your drop-dead fancy wheels your little house up on the hill but when your conscience pricks a little
