Есть в Италии маленький дом. Он стоит на обрыве крутом. В этом доме смеются и пьют и о чем-то тихонько поют. Припев: Дорога в жизни одна,все к смерти
Here, too, have to have been to care for ya Only no-one to love missed his friend Pitch the baby should be their murmur Slip me home as we seal us in
one point five While you struggle and strive we pick which Benz to drive The Mafia you wanna be 'em Most of y'all niggaz can't eat without per diem
I got scientist killas that'll jam your cell phone Send a text message, kill you off with a ringtone High pitched noise on your brain, it's heavy Autopsy
fate cause in they place Yo I'm on a chase for the pa-per, the caper Get it - stretched out And found taped up (Sonja Blade) Spit ya - cause when I pitch
rather die in prison than to be a broke nigga Live my life in the kitchen into bakin' pies One of my addictions, on the mound 95 mile per hour pitches
For those who love raw shit - welcome to Sickology 101 Your instructor for today is - Tech N9ne! [Verse 1 - Tech N9ne] This is style I use pitch, to
twist the wrist So listen up closely, with thoughts to recoup me Cause I hope to gross like ten cent per groupie Now only if I had two G's per strand
without making a sound at one hundred miles per hour, except for maybe a hiss but that's it, the buck 65 covers more ground than forests, the only man
When I dance I'm tailed by a dog called Ego And you don't move at all When I talk you bark with a pitch black halo Damn, you're gonna hit the wall The
like Uncle Tom's, like Louis Armstrong Wearin' a tattoo and goin' onstage like Tracy Chapman I cancelled a big tour 'cause I was prepared Y'all on the road with per
While you struggle and strive we pick which Benz to drive The M.A.F.I.A. you wanna be em Most of y'all niggaz can't eat without per diem I'm rich, I'ma
go from one format then switch to the next Reflex sets the pitch vocals rip through projects Crazy shouts are heard all around Cause the gangstarr sound carries more weight per
year I came thru, I saw Exactly what I been tryna show to you, or You can putcha seatbelt on I'll take ya to Where the hood's the arena and the block's the pay-per
Here, too, have to have been to care for ya' Only no-one to love missed his friend Pitch the baby should be their murmur Slip me home as we seal us in
a big end barrister Desperate to impress I see you open up On a rare occasion You've been dead so long That you decompose And you come on strong Like a pitch
I hear the ticking of the clock I'm lying here the room's pitch dark I wonder where you are tonight No answer on the telephone And the night goes by so
' it like that. The front of the attack is exactly where I'm at. Somewhere in between the kick and the hi-hat The pen and the contract, the pitch and