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say her name Rekia Boyd, say her name Rekia Boyd, say her name Rekia Boyd, won't you say her name Latasha Walton, say her name Latasha Walton, say
on the streets but I'm telling you man it's probably rougher at home He's been hearing your pretty voice in his head since he was fifteen years old Oh Walton Oh
Rabi-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-tit Jesus Christ, mi nice Hear mi now star, hear mi now So, fix up a slow, up like a dove Said, at di Walton you have
banken Jeg stabler flus som Jim Walton Og panserne tror at de fange dem Jeg alt for aktiv kald mig Dalton Ja han fanger bar' en sag Ja vi rammer top en dag
Yo I got enough opium to kill sultans I'm trying to relax with chill dolphins cnd expound out upon the universe like Bill Walton x2 I peel off them
This one's for you mrs walton my love for you is like the most stinky pepper your face reminds me of exciting flamingos together we are like
a chair? Stop playin' with that man Where was niggas at when Walton wasn't playin' fair? Yeah, stop playin' with that man Stop, stop, yeah, stop playin' with
Mississippi Down in Mississippi Down in Mississippi Where the blues was born Wade Walton's barbershop, backroom booze Shave and a haircut, lots
then Well im retarded now Cali born Fort Walton Beach Panhandle child Bout to put some perms in I lost my pullouts How you have two kids? You ain't pull
we owned, On Walton Way, we loved that place. Then we built this one on land That we both chose. And here’s a pic of all of us With smiles on ev’ry
VERSE He's a little bit Waltons with a dash of Dallas Says,""home may be humble but it's our palace"" Chores around the house sweeping the yard
well about heartbreak An everything in between This album is a compilation of songs Written and produced by artists Kurt Danger And Bradley Walton From
Mississippi Down in Mississippi Down in Mississippi Where the blues was born Wade Walton's barbershop, backroom booze Shave and a haircut, lots
Walton Jeder hier ist mies angeekelt Du gehörst nicht ans Mic Sondern in Quarantäne Nein, ich will kein Age Bring' mir meine Papes Denn berührt man diese
to offer I’m the hottest on the market Check my-Self Out while I’m beating you Goodnight, Mr walton this is the Only time I’m greeting you here’s a thought
Got a swollen face and now dollar chase at a smaller rate While I plot on a wad of pape like the Walton's safe A lot of rappers buried when the patterns
for Walton's five and dime Am I the last of my kind? Am I the last of my kind? I tried to go to college but I didn't belong Everything I said was
Out while I’m beating you Goodnight, Mr walton this is the Only time I’m greeting you here’s a thought Stop changing your damn layout Every couple days!
I just wanna touch a mil like I'm Walton Bitches fake, she wearin' fuckin' rubber like a condom Got a Cuban link around my neck, it's floodin' like
YOU DON'T KNOCK Writer W. Westbrook and C.A. Walton You don't knock you just walk on in the door to heaven's inn There's love and joy for you
doc out of oil Fire thrown to the roof of you apartment Hit 95 then I hide with the waltons Down south, the forty-four feela I'm a dolo nigga, you
flags on the end C. Walton, Stacey Adams, five-oh-one That shit was fascinating The Miles Davis of gangbangin' and crack slangin' Drivin' a fresh
take you back To that haunted railway track To waltz with his ghost, down in Walton So you feel her pain For her sons tortured name And the murder
people, that's a poor man's dream Hey Mr. Walton Lend me a dime You know I'll repay ya But it's gonna take me some time I'm standing at the crossroads
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