Refrain: Four strong winds that blow long Seven seas that run high All these things that won't change Come what may Well, our good times are all gone
: (Ian Tyson) [Chorus:] Four strong winds that blow lonely, seven seas that run high, All those things that don't change, come what may. But our good
(Instrumental)
(feat. Taskforce) [Intro: Chester P] Taskforce, a hundred strong beats [Verse One: Chester P] I can't fight no more, this life's beat me In times like
(Ian Tyson) [Chorus:] Four strong winds that blow lonely, seven seas that run high, All those things that don't change, come what may. But our good
(2 раза): 1 hundred kisses Is all that she misses It thousand touches Standing in harts 1 hundred moments Was magic and romance And beating of two Loving harts He is so strong
Put me in your doorpanels or your stashbox Put me in your Nik's, Timbs or Reeboks If you cop three and a half you hustlin' backwards Cop a hundred grams
hater Put me in your doorpanels or your stashbox Put me in your nik's, timbs or reeboks If you cop three and a half you hustlin' backwards Cop a hundred
notes, and high fashion brass He ball like we own the world The only concern is you my only girl And when we sneak into chokes, breathin' hard when I'm squeezin' you long Keep it strong
the peas cuz we fallin' up Electric cuz we like charging up We the B.e.peas uh Rhythmic sonic pleaser Getcha hot like fever Boiling (two) hundred
400 years (400 years, 400 years. Wo-o-o-o) And it's the same - The same (wo-o-o-o) philosophy I've said it's four hundred years; (400 years, 400 years
've been in wild battles and won I'm undefeated The punch lines that I put in the streets Even made freeway say "Put on a beat" Only the strong pre-vail
door, Oooh 'coz if you think I'm weak then that makes you strong So rain on me What's the price of thunder? (rain on me) It's like I'm waiting in a hundred
turned the mike on and spit a fucking dark storm People slept on me and doubted my skill level But I'm tenacious and I got a strong will level You been
the sky Ask God why I'm broke, bitch, I'm cooking the pie We all gon' die, sooner or later, matter of time My niggaz sell crack, with a package of dimes Hundred
niggaz to death and beatin dead niggaz to life When you look at me long enough, I start to read your thoughts if the signal was strong enough, and
of here tonight [x2] We need some leverage We can't seem to open up The locks are far too tight And the chains are far too strong Far too strong
