't expect to see him again It's a boy, Mrs. Walker, it's a boy It's a boy, Mrs. Walker, it's a boy A son, a son, a son
Captain Walker didn't come home His unborn child will never know him Believe him, missing with a number of men Don't expect to see him again
Traduzione: Chi, il. E 'un ragazzo.
Traduzione: Chi, il. Overture / E 'Un Ragazzo.
on these punk suckas Try to take ya boy out the game like a busta Now they know what it's like gettin with a psycho With the Garden Blocks it's all about
off the gat Why throw it away? with or without it they gon' watch my ass Cause it's my first strike so a nigga go for blood So when it's on, it's me or
Reala:] I got that white girl flippin like a drill team The club get it, once I said it's like a wet dream Since it's a wet dream, better have my wet
straight in the ground So kill that talk and have a Coke and a smile Or else have a glass of milk, and a cookie Cause to me you're just a rookie In my
hit the bottom It's heavy like an anchor, it's no problem For me to just bake you, eat you like a cookie I am a profressional, boy, you're just a rookie
get laughed at Tryin to get live with weak raps and a half-track But here's a piece of the whole pie So grab your mic and give it a bold try You try to
a hobby or a sport Cause next she tried to kick it to my boy Too $hort [VERSE 2: Too $hort] It's kinda funny: you want money from a pimp (Biatch) you
Nigga, I'ma blast off Straight to the dome, you entered in the Bad Boy zone [Mark Curry] Yo, yo, uh Who's a nigga harder than me? On the boats, make it
let's get it) Ain't shit funny (uhh) shake it honey (let's get it) Take it money, now let's get it (let's get it) [P. Diddy over Chorus] This, is, the
Dep [G-Dep] It's just me I don't know It's just how I get down [Diddy] Come on, yeah Tonight's the night, tonight's the night, tonight's the night [Chorus
's get it) Ain't shit funny (uh) Shake it honey (Let's get it) Take it money Now let's get it (Let's get it) [G-Dep] Creep with your people, though my
a fiasco Just pass go collect your do', spit fire in the studio Turn it out at a state show, and pull you a bad hoe Get you some loving, that's hotter
of em live Write his name on a bullet, cause all of em his That fill em up like a pencil, its all in a bitch You scared of the wall, scared to get hit
to you, from my soul And it goes [Hook: Small Boy] This one's for my people, around the way To all the ones, who keep it player made For staying down
