waiting for the kid to come out And I'm waiting for the kid to come out And I'm finding out what this is about Yeah, waiting for the kid to come out
Traduzione: Cucchiaio. Waiting For The Kid di uscire.
face - that'cha ego! Aiyyo, freeze-funk, you got to stay stable Watch out for the devil, he comes after you after the revival When will he come, what
found rhythms that had Lomas on the loose Flying within, every mind that could listen to hymns And all the while? I couldn't wait for the music to end
sample] They're coming here. They're waiting to take the city They're peering around buildings at night And they're waiting, they're waiting for you And
Aid, shiit I got to get it wit it Put my spoon up in ya pitcher see if it fit up in it (And) smoke for a second (And) told her I'll wreck it Told her
some Kool-Aid, shit I got to get it wit it Put my spoon up in ya pitcher see if it fit up in it And smoke for a second, and told her I'll wreck it Told
I'm in the water. Barely I'll do anything to stay afloat Even swallow Co2 cartriges But I didn't come out here to talk about sports I really, I came out
now Jay-Z's on, be gone to the next town Punk, jump up and get beat down Check it out, check it out, check it out Ladies be comin out of their seats now
's throat for a photographic children of my primordial growth, you parade around a kill so damn proud like a flat-line fetish had his feathers fanned out
, still ship Half the pipes are gettin' sold out convenience stores Where ya at now? Coming around trying to sniff out sounds Well, rounded kept you strictly grounded for
some Kool-Aid, shiit I got to get it wit it Put my spoon up in ya pitcher see if it fit up in it (And) smoke for a second (And) told her I'll wreck it
your face, that'cha ego Aiyyo, freeze funk, you got to stay stable Watch out for the devil, he comes after you after the revival When will he come, what
planet's a giant Ask King David This giant will fall Just because you can't see God Like the wires in the wall Don't mean that He ain't coming back With
spears, not lookin' for no hassle, Havin' themselves a brew or two, When out in the night they hear woo-wooo-wooo. And here comes this ghost, lookin'
door Its the blood clot blues, the gun-shot wounds the needles and spoons, doomed from the womb til the tomb For whom the bell tolls, this will pay for