Naa naa naa There was a man Who grew too big It didn't matter what he did The girls would always run away When everybody laughs at you It can be humiliating
Traduzione: Talking Heads. Bill.
real Tryina put the nigga that did it behind bars to make him pay they doctor's bill But the shooter a monster, he hella feared So ain't nobody talkin
G., nigga it's gon be a bling bling Nigga I'ma have to talk on my walkie talkie, when my Nextel ring ring And if I don't wanna talk, nigga I ain't gon
'd up, from head to toe Memories as a young nigga He always got it blown like Al Capone He's the downest G I've ever known ['Pac talking overlaps singing
[Tupac Talking] Shit, tired of getting shot at Tired of getting chased by the police and arrested Niggas need a spot where we can kick it A spot
I'm worse when I'm rich or when I'm broke niggaz Same attitude you got it go 'head smoke nigga! [gunshot] I'm fuckin' with a blonde bitch I got my own
here shaggy Smokin my do-do in the mo-mo in the black navi Bitches will love to have me, because im livin lavish Ill take some pussy but head is what
those who rise easy, talkin freely Thank you for them tricks who be, talkin down Hatin me and think that I don't, get around The rumors and the talkin
[Intro: 9th Prince] Yo, yeah, yeah I don't even talk to y'all niggas Not on the streets I wanna big up my cousin O.D.B. though Word up, Baby Jesus locked
caddy she was yippin' and yappin' about her baby daddy talkin' with her who'd she pitched? she called her baby-daddy a lil' old bitch talkin' shit loud and fast bitch talking
Loud. Can you hear me talking to you? Can you hear me screaming at you 'til I'm blue in the face? On the streets again, bill-bored, broke, at my wit
hook up for a date and all that shit... All the girls who left me in restaurants eatin'... talkin 'bout they gonna use the phone and left me with the fuckin bill
But once in a while a diamond's found deep beneath the cold Madd deep like my rhyme is found deep beneath my soul But you, you fit the bill Me and you
abacus down to good times Someone please write a post-it note to remind me why I'm doing this and when to pay the cable bill Won't talk about the cage
Volkswagen brain My style be kind of old, like gold But it's the reason why I still mold, C-notes in my bill fold I like my brew real cold, it's the
too This what you walk through Megaphones you talk through Have a bitch walk, when the angel carrying pitchforks Mad cause we banging on they head with