La la la.... Refrain: Jolie K-frine je ve gouT ton pti chou la Vasy vi1 la Joli K-frine je ve gouT ton pti chou la Rien que pour toi x2 Couplet: Tu
bring I'm just tryin' to change the color on your mood ring Reebok Baby You need to drop some new things Have you ever had shoes without shoe strings
do bring I'm just tryin' to change the color on your mood ring Reebok, baby, you need to drop some new things Have you ever had shoes without shoe strings
't hang Let me tell you who I'm is Lunatic mayne, straight up out the heartland Nine on my right, ten more karats on my other hand In different colors
it's the same s*** Ain't no half steppin' on some Big Daddy game s*** I walk like a hustler, pimpin' hustlers language We don't know each others language
are Microphone fiend, it?s the return of the God, peace God And ain?t nobody fresher I?m in Maison, uh, Martin Margiela On the table, screaming fuck the other
machine Looking around, everything I see it seems to lose its color Don't know what's become of me Barely alive, how did I survive? One day just like the other
races Different voices, different choices Some are mad, while others laugh Some live alone with no better half Others grieve while others curse And others
dark And we move to the other part of it Secret part of your restless heart To glide past every city light Like a satellite careering through the sky This color
s do unto others as you'd have 'em do unto you But you better be careful of who you're doin' it to 'Cuz you never know when the shoe Could end up on the other
hair Dream on He's going to love me in this ruby, ruby lipstick Others will notice!--Sexy!--Who cares! Recognize this? Dreamer Latest styles and colors
I run through obstacles, take off my shackles Proper backing with the bangers and the rhyme singers I run with dem and others rock NY in colors With
To me, you were just dead weight A diluted filter blurring the color away From what this used to be Or, or what it could have been But nothing's changed
my house, counting big money is the place for me. Blow good dro, and ride G rides, gangbanging and cane slanging, the whole nine, Chuck Taylors, red strings
Let the dull colors spill right down to my shoes And the children gather 'round to lap it up And the children gather 'round, 'round, 'round, 'round I am empty, others
had a job selling subscriptions for the Chicago Tribune He told me this guy named Rocky would pick him up In a station wagon, him and some other boys
Soft sexy hair Dream on He's gonna love me In this ruby, ruby lipstick Others will notice! Sexy! Who cares? Recognize this? Dreamer Latest styles and colors
burn my album with left hands on your purse string? Why do we disrespect each other instead of loving one another? Why do we have to focus on the skin tone and color
