from the future You can't change the past Not that fast Kill the ghost That hides in your soul Kill the ghost That hides in your soul Kill the ghost
future Can't change the past Not that fast Kill the ghost that hides in your soul Kill the ghost that hides in your soul Kill the ghost that hides in
the future You can't change the past Not that fast Kill the ghost That hides in your soul Kill the ghost That hides in your soul Kill the ghost That
Traduzione: Barra. Ghost.
on your black ass, bitch {*1} {*2} [2Pac] I thought I hit rock bottom, they ban my album, point the finga I guess nobody loves a real nigga-slash-rap
me Coat with a fedora gray Kangol, sippin out a can {?} With Magilla Gorilla, drivin a red Jeep Durango Sound system plush, with Space Ghost in the back
on the competition like hopscotch I'm nice I'm sayin' it twice I repeat like a pen I breed another eight MCs approachin' me I disrespect, slash your neck
Wilson Pickett Watch me kick it, Grand Imperial lunatic Get the dough, set the show, wet a hoe with my super dick Nut, then I got ghost You got ta be
We the slang prostitution get the dookie respect [Interlude: Cappadonna] Yeah, talkin' bout, get that money up Birth of Don'... what up Rae? What up Ghost
like a Jamaican Dance, and download me Go ahead, take the chance [Chorus:] Charles Hamilton dot blog spot dot com The Amy Rose dot blog spot dot com Myspace dot com slash
one that give the cash give the ass Can't count how many chics I gassed They be like your supposed to care for me I ain't believing that for the ghost
Thought (Ghost weeeeeeeeeeeeeeed!) Don't even listen to him, don't sweat it Word yo! [Announcer] Ghost weed, it's not like WOW, it's like WHOA! [Disclaimer] Ghost
The L.O.X., Mase) [Verse One: Sheek Luchion] You on the circle line, what's wrong? Ain't your yacht out yet ain't you that Willie, Benz pushing, slash
bring the pain Ana on my chest got me bustin' at you lemon lames You ain't know you fuckin' with a street nigga From the gutta pimp tight slash drug dealer
gun shoot rabid Front if you want, but don't think we don't shoot rapids I'm what some might consider a ghost Cause I move at night, plus I'm the type
It seems I?ve become a ghost Where familiar faces start to fade I?ll slash these tires and walk away And I?ll call, on the next day off Watch how long