Lyrics:
If you were a window and I was the rain I'd pour myself out and wash off the pain I'd fall like a tear so your light could shine through Then I'd
I swear if bad girls had a team You'd be the mascot and the star player You got skills baby that I never seen You tryna ball, you could be my star
it makes me wanna, I’d trade all of my tomorrows just to keep on feeling like this, These moments are better than anything I’m ever gonna miss.
of a thousand men With the honor of a king And I'd do it all over again I've made choices I'll take the blame for everything I do My heart rejoices Cause
He said I love you baby But you got a big insurance policy And I really Need the paper. [Chorus:] Strange behavior by the sea. (se-e-e) He'd be
Yes, I was careless with my heart You'd think I'd know Falling, that's the easy part I just let go I'd never given everything But you were worth
long to Bite every hand that feeds you more Where'd it all go wrong My Friday night infant Where'd it all go wrong My Friday night infant All
passage Ferait boucler toute la contrée Ah oui Pour tout souvenir d'enfance Je ne connais que le vent Et sous le soleil qui danse Les silhouettes
young. And he'd tell you a tale of the old days, When the country was wild all around, Sit out under the stars of the Milky Way, And listen while
at the world The bullets flying, they're taking toll. If you've been bad, Lord I bet you have And you've not been hit by flying lead You'd better close
D's they big mac'd her (mac'd her) Bill train to fight us (fight us) Titus he gained arthritis (shit) Cops they train to bite us (bite us) with Kalina
of counting sheep When your lonely heart has learned its lesson You'd be hers if only she'd call In the wee small hours of the morning That's the time you
love, Dial L for love W.O.R.D. UP, W.O.R.D. UP, W.O.R.D. UP, W.O.R.D. UP Yeah you sucker DJ's who think you're fly There's got to be a reason and we
B.G. (D-Roc): I'm a gangsta, I like a nasty ass hoe When we make it happen, you know exactly how it go First nut I bust, hear she a pro I ain't gotta
I'd like to try throwing the I Ching I'd like to try someone analyzing my writing I'd like to see what's written on the crystal stones And see
I've done that too. And it ain't that pretty at all. Ain't that pretty at all. Gonna to throw myself against the wall 'Cause I'd rather feel bad
J'ai besoin d'un ami Pour réchauffer ma vie Pour les jours sans amour Et d'ennui Que ce soit un vieil homme Un enfant Mais quelqu'un qui sourit Et
on the Brooklyn street when he was just thirteen He made his way out west, he'd seen some pictures in a magazine He worked a while as a roughneck in
they fathers a doctor Auction, coke to the coppers, Glock's in the locker And who you sposed to be, get hung from the rosaries Call me C.O.D. that's
Il était là dans ce fauteuil Mon spectateur du premier jour Comme un père débordant d'orgueil Pour celui qui prenait son tour Il était là dans ce
hoping you'll come back You're the one I love I think about you all the time Crying, crying, doo d-doo doo Tears keep a-falling all night long Waiting,
I never knew there'd be sorrow But I knew we'd be 2gether tomorrow 2gether 4ever we were so wrong Now I just can't believe that you're gone.
baggin' ounces in the back of the Maz' Ostrich on, Wollriches, three Quarter-ness A.D.I.D.A.S. wit Stan Smith's The grant's on the Stove And Aunt Lo
Frightened by her own shadow Now she wants to go home Many names for one G-d Trotting on, through the facade You were all my children Got a dig for
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