This thing is so hard to load, And I can't aim (I can't aim). I can't swim, But I can turn this into gold On the wings of the angel who left you here
This thing is so hard to load And I can't aim (I can't aim) I can't swim But I can turn this into gold On the wings of the angel who left you here Sadie
This thing is so hard to load, And I can't aim (I can't aim). I can't swim, But I can turn this into gold On the wings of the angel who left you here.
Traduzione: Pancia. Sexy S.
Pussy, Pussy (that's how we playa's ball) [Verse Two: ???, ???] [???] I guess these hoes didn't hear me, when I said bitch please Now it's five years
the blond guy from CHIPS Lick your lips Stroke it clean with Martin Sheen It's fucking obscense Clench your ass-cheeks tight with sexy grandma Betty White You'll see the light when your sphincter's
for a sex look Enough of the blind man's bluff, I wan't the good stuff Trying to hookup a full belly and a foot rub The modern man's hustle I dig it,
at you? So sexy wit yo g-string on, all I wanna know is can we get our freak on? Hit me on the celly when yo Mom's aint home. it's on. [Chorus] Hey
, call me, you want to get your kicks, call me You want your G's fixed, call me, mi have the remix, call me From di odda day It's like a play some bwoy
proper fix, call me, you want to get your kicks, call me You want your G's fixed, call me, mi have the remix, call me From di odda day It's like a play
ain't Toby call me J-to the Talk on my cellular telly got a belly like Buddah I ain't Barry Gordy's son but I Rock(s)well When I eat Jamaican food I
it was over y'all guessed I heard ya new stuff and I hope it's y'all's best Cos this that ? that's disposin' y'all's mess See I live with Ricky Wade and
To talk that funny shit To someone you know While I bag these bitches And take them to 24-hour telly Type of chickens to let me get in they belly Little sexy
celli', I got yella's lookin' gritty Knock em' down with the KY Jelly, tat my name up on they belly (Da-Da-Damn Homie!) I'm slidin' on Parelli's, choppin
See it's all about the way Chocs makes the bells ring People talkin' shit but can't do a damn thing So understand this, it's all about the lyricist No
and lean, sexy Dorene parted them swinging doors She was holding hands with some honky tonk man, no one had ever seen before She was Bubba Jones's girl
Yes it's x-mas Bro's x-mas Mom's x-mas Dad's x-mas Bro's x-mas Feels like x-mas Feels like x-mas Michelle's x-mas Beyonce's x-mas Kelly's
can you handle this? My girl missy, can you handle this? DC, can you handle this? My ghettos you cant handle [Kelly] Barely move, we've arrived Lookin sexy