losing my mind You molest and destroy just a five year old boy And you make me suffer, motherfucker Ripped my heart out.. ...I was only five... ...Five
molest and destroy just a five year old boy And you make me suffer, motherfucker Ripped my heart out I was only five, five, five Five, five, five, five, five
Traduzione: Machine Head. Cinque.
Instead of parlaying, I know these niggas feel what I'm saying Cause all G's from Houston Texas, now you know where I'm staying Crawling low tip-toeing, in a five
machine Four screens six 15's, don't look directly at my ring Matter fact I got a ticket, for causing distractions I'm like officer my head itched, sir
to talking in codes, the phones bugged. (uh-huh!) This Ferrari, I get to the green. - Half man, half machine. Tu-tu-tu! - I'm on ya head with the beam
(feat. E-40) (Anyway, it doesn't matter much how you feel, you know what you got to do, I'm here to do it, how about you?) [E-40:] Our age, five-years
Henchmen of pro lynchmen, rhyme rankest lyrical lynchmen In Now Born, raisin' Children of the Corn We march as we hear the horns of Red Dawn I'm prepared, sharpen my machete
couple strangers, held a mongoloid fanbase that is alien by nature, robot wars, machines hit the floor, and the semians syncopated a gigantic "encore", alright i'm bored, five
clothes are soaked. Would like me to get you a drink? Would you like me to put your shirt and your pants in my washin' machine, in my washin' machine
Lesson number one Take my head Rip it open Take the sickness, buried you too After releasing one of the most violent recordings in recent history?
Airlines DC-10 with engine built to my back again Fly over 101 freeway, run like Flash on speedways Human-made man machine move like Jim Kelly with Afrosheen
give a fuck Stack my chesse up Cause one day I'm a give this street life up Beef I don't discuss A nigga outta line gone get his motherfuckin head bust
as a youngster Stack my chesse up Cuz oneday I'm a give this street life up Beef I don't discuss Wodie outta line wodie gone get his head bust Cash Money
I should write some songs like Mozart 'Cause many people don't believe rap is an art Wake up, shake up, hypocrite look alive Blastmaster KRS-One will revive Four or five
boy clapped boy (flatline) Oh no here we go another (flatline) P crack B mack is back boy (flatline) Get him up outta here rrring yea (rring yea) Don't get plugged to that machine yea (machine
