Warm milk and honey Sweeten my teeth. From little acorns you.. You quietly made me.. Made me into me. Paper thin skin stretched Over my bones. From shells
Перевод: Мальчик меньше всего. Battle Of The Boy меньше всего.
rug you understand my game plan You say man that kid bug, soya blood cotacs if you like the key Now I'll stomp your head till you're dead or at least
dance I refuse to lose self and try to win fans over Weight on my shoulder fluctuates like Oprah's My refrigerator poetry's magnetic like ultra You couldn't hang if you was a poster Posin like
mama poppa pouring out vodka Mama Mia, Em pass me the seeds, it's (?) Slaughterhouse got signed Better yet boy go home, better yet boy G4 Chrome, better jet boy
least 3 or 4 times But in the land where niggas praise, Yukon's are gettin' paid It's gon' take a lot more than coupons to get us saved Like it take
It was like March, April Fuckin' Libra, fuckin' Taurus, born in 1775 I'm like 300 and somethin' but I'm still alive I used to hang with the original
Battle the match and bang, I hold my gun up high Screamin', "Fuck 'em all" then I get in that as like cholesterol I got the game lock down like Alcatraz
El-P is superpowers like the U.S. and U.S.S.R. Blow you like the Deathstar Leave your chest scarred like Sagat My plot proliferates, hits you like barbiturates
don't know you like I do, Or at least the sides I thought I knew, I can't bear this time, It drags on as I lose my mind, Reminded by things I find, Like
fag claims to never be gay I knew you was jealous from the day that I met you I upset you, 'cause I get respect I pet you (Boy) I'm even liked better
It ain't like I ain't never seen a gun before It ain't even like I never had to run before But you don't really wanna kill me You wanna act like a real
What up dog? It's Murson It seems like nobody's trying man There's kids dying in Sudan and nobody cares man At least I'm trying, man Look, don't ever
the showers Me and el-p, is superpowers like the us and ussr Blow you like the deathstar Leave your chest scarred like sagat My plot proliferates, hits you like
, we ain't runnin', we all seventy Oh ain't it bad, I destroy the nerve, battle boy, natural high cap Fuck, Donna in the CD, half in the tray me and Ray the boy
Say something and get them proper Mama poppa pouring out vodka Mama Mia, Em pass me the seeds It's ? Slaughterhouse ? better yet boy go home, better yet boy ? Better jet boy
Eighth grade, standing my ground Outweighed by at least 30 pounds Oh, Willie T. James Meanest boy in the school Toe to toe outside of homeroom Like two
