Перевод: Paris. В те времена,.
finst' to come up soon I still remember them days They was crazy but now they gone It aint nothin' like it used to be before Back in the days... 1990
again. (damn right and im lovin every minute) Most people like getting up when im just getting in. (I'll be back in three days like Paris's jail sentence
i could bring u back tonight And turn back the hands of time It's been si long And i feel I'm getting numb Missing you just drives me crazy Bring back those days
cops harassin' Imagine goin' to court with no trial Lifestyle cruisin' blue behind my waters, no welfare supporters More conscious of the way we raise our daughters Days
I done been around tha world And everywhere be tha same song Niggaz struggle daily gotta survive It's worldwide, even niggaz in Paris and London be hustlin
let's kick it like soccer like Jorge And have fun in this house, call it horseplay She like a nigga with some cake like a birthday Not a scrawny little nigga doing four days
people that I call my own Remember back when good rap was just a cool dance hit They even though it wasn't saying Well, them days is gone I don't play
[Paris] Take it back to the days when we raised us up 'Fore coward-ass rap made the game corrupt P-Dog in the cut back to bring the pain Puttin wood on
can players stand there and say I sound like them, hello, push wigs back and push six coup's that's yellow, bust clips that expands from hand to elbow, spray up your days
player days is over Well, maybe not completely But still and all, come here, rest ya head on my bed And let me get between ya legs Lay on ya back, uh
Fame makes a fool out of anyone Fame takes you back to the golden childhood Fame makes you think that you're having fun Fame the game Get on the plane
That's the new Gucci?s, 500 a piece I make her smile and I smile back Check the doors, Caddy-stones ya, I bought that Baby, we can go to Paris or Toronto
and roll queens Yes, I have Heads of Mary, the girls are back in town You know I know that things won't be the same No more black days out in the cold
little town of Bethlehem We raise our glass, you bet your ass to La vie boheme La vie boheme La vie boheme La vie boheme La vie boheme To days of inspiration
from you I was twenty-two and drunk in Amsterdam Got robbed in Paris, France, got home on one last chance And without a backward glance I began again And the days
on tha town-end, Spring water wont mess with tha fountains, Land rovers back to back when we camping, Felipe lemonade, Police dederade, We didnt fear, Back
