Hey, hey, baby, honey what's wrong with you? Hey, now baby, honey what's wrong with you? Well, now don't treat me, baby, like you used to do. Well you
Traduzione: Rolling Stones. Baby, Cosa c'è di sbagliato.
love for these niggaz, there's no need to be friends They got me under surveillance, that's what somebody be tellin Know there's dope bein sold, but
love for these niggaz, there's no need to be friends They got me under surveillance, that's what somebody be tellin Know there's dope bein sold, but +
worry how my money was spent When I became a man I began to understand Why "My papa was a rolling stone" By the time, had to slow his roll [verse 2]
the forests where they feed the trees broken glass. john lennon and the rolling stones crooning in plastic bags. spit shine your black luck now, baby.
see in me Could ya tell me what you see [Krayzie Bone] What makes a nigga think He bite my shit and call his shit original What's worse Tellin' people
Thugs, 'cause y'all think that you can really hate, nigga [Chorus] [Krayzie] What makes a nigga think he can bite my shit and call his shit original? What's
what will go wrong will go wrong Until the beast in me vanishes [Verse 1:] First of all I was born under a bad sign, confinded to torcher Never saw what
what's up to that 2, off in Westy Square South One, Yellow Stone, 34th Ward We be swanging lane to lane, in the foreign cars Ask them niggaz what they
about fifteen stones The C stands for Cool Breeze who's known as the champ Freddy Calhoun, the coolest cutta at camp Ay, my one's and my two's got your
m ?tray? hoe I ain't ?tray? Find this gun in your motherfuckin mouth, test me baby If you think I'm playin, proof test me baby If you know what I'm sayin
?tray? hoe I ain't ?tray? Find this gun in your motherfuckin mouth, test me baby If you think I'm playin, proof test me baby If you know what I'm sayin
loose and spit at the ganstas What up gotti were in this little war you pushed on Put your ear to the drama for stucky and bush stones What's wrong
coal, ?provomic? diamond studded See verbally I'm iced down, too heavy and sharp to lug it Yo hip hop's lone Rolling Stone wit no known offspring so
for them And then we started making rap songs for them But how come we ain't rolling on chrome like them See I know (what's up) that's something's wrong This year baby
me wrong Ain't the one to be takin' shit personal, baby That's my sticks and stones be the name of this song [Chrous] Sticks and stones might break Flesh
say "Orange" like this, "Orange," 'cause that's in California they say, "Orange," you know? Don: What's the, what's the matter with uh, Debris? Phyllis
