you Get off the rocket ride man I can't even fake it I'll say it again You're on a downward slide my friend So I hear they call it killing the fly I
Get off the rocket ride man I can't even fake it, I'll say it again You're on a downward slide my friend So I hear they call it killin' the fly I can
Traduzione: Union Underground. Killing The Fly.
practice The factor which then amalgamates the baits with straight-jackets and ROBES Huddled in brackets that blacken the average globe Xenophobe, loathe to modify the fly
if you need to fly a flag in front of your place Just keep that motherfucking union jack out of my face Speak out of place - fly a pirate ensign - got
Tru mi dey a foreign now a guy kill me cousin An mi here sey TD deh dey but him sey he wasnt Anytime mi fly down him a get bout dozen....Cause...... [
unnu some'in... Tru mi dey a foreign now a guy kill me cousin An mi here sey TD deh dey but him sey he wasnt Anytime mi fly down him a get bout dozen...
[Intro] BITCH! Uh! Killa! Uh! Dipset Bitch! The Union(Uh huh!) Harlem! Killa! (Leave me alone.....I just like to live my life) Part 2! [Verse 1] I be
bump faster Gurizzi, on Volume Thrizi, I gets busy Since the days of the Quarters, Union Square, and the Castle Been known to hold my own, if you give
em bout my mornin' Cold bugged' em out shot allmenn little dice until my knees got sore Kicked around some stories bout the night before Possed to the corner where the fly
back ready to fly with our own wings here is no hole, no... No time for all this In my area man I only saw children killing themselves downstair
baby, do it again (repeat x2) Another teenage suicide, slit your wrists and laugh When boredom kills Shot morphine pills Be faithful unto death In every home a rapist Are killers
[feat. Evidence, Fashawn, Jerreau of Fly Union, Cookin' Soul] "Amsterdam was stuck in my head" "C-C-C-Cookin' Soul" "Amersterdam" "Amsterdam was stuck
need team, me one One a mi gun dem, new brand Shot fasta dan Western Union Connect from Gaza go cross De La Vega To Comon Woman, Big Yard move on We a kill
seventeen Little n-gga tryna bubble up from the crack scene It got so complicated than I graduated Haters so mad I made it How could I fly so high only
my children, Soldiers guarding the railroad bridge, Every once in a while a bullet would fly, Kick up gravel under my feet. We were so afraid you would kill
they can come and floodwaters, rise, But I've got to get to Boston, Root hog and die Nicola Sacco, a shoe-factory hand, Bartolo Vanzetti, a trade union
