don't follow me And you cared You kept your feelings hidden Like a psycho Burned it all down Take me with you Won't you let me go So sick of man
the lights And then you said,"Please don't follow me" And you cared When you're so sick When you're so sick When you're so sick When you're so sick
Перевод: Холодной. Sick Of Man.
Fed-up Tired Sick and twisted One-man army I'm enlisted Trust yourself trust no one else Fuck a hero be yourself I don't need your lousy hand-out Clinched
.P when I walked by Man, I, don't holla at no lame ho's I go to the bar, get somethin' to sip on, for my folk Man, this is how is goes down, where I stay
them suckers (see them suckers) I ain't gon lie, man my shit tight (tight) Hoes jocking, got em stopping like a red light (ay, yeeeeeeah) Wake me up, this a sick
got my gun, semi-Cartermatic Yeah, put a dick in their mouth, so I guess it’s “fuck what they say” I’m high as a bitch: up, up and away Man, I come down
Yeah.. Ya Know?.. Critics Man Critics Never Got Nothin Nice To Say man You know the one thing I notice about critics man? Is.. critics never ask me how
Vick in this bitch, fall back you mutts Fuck your worms, you never seen such a sick puppy Fuck it a sick duck, I'm on my duck sick mummy And my nuts,
three musketeers in the rear seat ( Hook ) Sometimes i feel so alone, I just don't know ,feels like i been down this road before, So lonely and cold,
Intro: Eminem: Obie, Yo? Obie Trice: I'm sick Eminem: Damn, you straight dogg? Obie Trice - B W Chorus Coughing Bitches Getting sick Chorus: That's why
Syndrome My whole life I was made to believe I was sick when I wasn't 'til I grew up, now I blew up, it makes you sick to ya stomach doesn't it? Wasn
an autograph for Matthew That's my little brother man, he's only six years old We waited in the blistering cold for you, four hours and you just said, "No." That's pretty shitty man
Death Row That's where motherfuckers is endin up Dear mama, I'm caught up in this sickness I rob my adversaries, but Slick done left a witness Wonder
A man sits at his desk One year retirement And he's up for review Not quite sure what to do Each passing year The workload grows I'm always wishing,
like home There's no place like home Like home I've got a southern belle too And a ruby red shoes And a body of straw Are you sick of it all? There's a man
