with you If you don't understand man you've gotta believe There's too much of you but there's not enough of me There's not enough of me Same old song
Good afternoon mr. mangini (good afternoon) Yeah, I’ve got ahh.. three problems in my class (mmmhmm) The first one is the dinco d (yeah right) He’s always
To anyone who feels they are offended by the following content Now that we down with all of the nonsense If you know you not a groupie, make some noise
LP too and then it's Three times It's Mike and Six on the track and then Four Times when we come in through the back they're sayin [Chorus:] Oh no close the door
resist her. No stringy haired, blonde hair, blue eyed, pale skinned buttermilk complexion. Grafted, recessive, depressive, ironing board backside straight up and straight down
I used to fuck 'em" Not lettin' 'em know I was a young buck then Niggaz axin' me "Man, did you love her?" Loved her stupid ass enough to fuck her with
it you breathe no more, when we crash the door It's not a game, Pesci don't laugh no more, black Tahoe Stashing the door, fitting beautful in it A nigga
, Los Angeles Times Verse One: Xzibit MC's get fucked up, chopped like Braveheart Don't start what you can't finish, serious bidness Down La Seneca
car lookin fly, what about the driver? when the door lift up and it lay back down when it push back start and it hit one mile when the bar shut down
hit four times but it hit yo spine Paralyzed waist down and ya wheelchair bound Never mind that now you lucky to be alive Just thinkin' it all started fussin' wit three
me try it with another film wait-- life is a box of chocolates and my name is forrest gump (not better) though i'm not the sharpest tool in the
a lot Puttin down with rap-a-lot You'll die, can't fuck with us So when you say it, you'll a lie You'll try and get shut down From texas all the way
hey, down Drop down low and sweep the floor with it Drop, drop down low and sweep the floor with it Drop down low and sweep the floor with it Drop, drop down
before the fun was about to begin Yo yo, one bitten jabberjaws tryin' to taste the Paper written kids be bullshittin' I see they flaws Too many rebels not enough
't be ranked by no one else U G L Y, bitch, you ain't got no alibi So don't you roll down No windows or open no doors Jump your ass in the back and get
who ya gonna trust (trust) Daddy, daddy drinking that Vodka and Rum (rum) Guzzling down that One Fifty One (One!) Churchless people are running too (Two!) Preparing themselves for the second coming (Three
