Lyrics:
the winter comes
And there's no such thing as make-believe
Puppy dogs, autumn leaves 'n' BB guns
God didn't make little green apples
And it don't
the winter comes
And there's no such thing as make-believe
Puppy dogs, autumn leaves 'n' BB guns
God didn't make little green apples
And it don't
the winter comes
And there's no such thing as make-believe
Puppy dogs, autumn leaves 'n' BB guns
God didn't make little green apples
And it don't
the winter comes
And there's no such thing as make-believe
Puppy dogs, autumn leaves 'n' BB guns
God didn't make little green apples
And it don't
dig a pig so I drop the dogs
And sweat em like sweathogs
And get mad, mad 'cause I'm the n**** that flaunt it
AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted
Ah-yo,
the cabinets
Body parts we baggin, we ain't comin for the crack
We come to crack backs and ? over niggaz hair dew
Spit rays, pop off see's and graze niggaz
yet
I'm not dead yet
I'm a mad dog fighting with the wall against my back
You better get a bigger gun I'm not dead yet
I've been machine-gunned
cloudy wit me
Go get your gun and get rowdy wit me
It's a Holiday dog, mouth big, you could swallow the four
Don't you ask me what I'm robbing you for,
quarter blunt up on the mic
Treat my life like Quarter Four
Leave you D Rose'd on the floor
Fuck you mean by "mi amor", bitch
Did you taste my porridge?
I
a fucking ass-hole
He makes me sick talking by guns n' roses
I'm an old fashioned rocker, tired of bad drinks
Listening the song of angels: ice rocks in
when I've had a couple of b**rs
Grabbin' a gun when my dog lifts its ears
Runin' outside and I'm blasting away
Heating up my d**n sawed off 12 g**ge
Mother and Father, both proud of the daughter
That heaven had sent them, Feleena was this baby's name.
When she was seventeen, bothered by crazy dreams
Mother and Father, both proud of the daughter
That heaven had sent them, Faleena was this baby's name
When she was seventeen, bothered by crazy dreams
bitch ass nggas
As I hold my rifle
Black Roses
Radio
Watch it cuz I paint
Shots inside yo frame
Running with my dogs Kill dat bitch I'm inhumane
No opps
Love me
She makes
Me Fell
So Damn
Lucky
And I love the
Way she runs his fingers through my hair
She pulls me closer and tells me she don't care
If I
Sweet Child O' Mine (Guns N' Roses)
She's got a smile that it seems to me
Reminds me of childhood memories
Where everything was as fresh
that n**** back
I heard he was a rat
These b**** get attached because they know I got that sack
I’m a m**** dog
The plug on call
Caught them suckers
gone Ball regardless
Hotter than the sun
Got 34 shots in a gun
Call it Charles Barkley
And We might leave this b**** with a few mo bodies
Young n
the winter comes
And there's no such thing as make-believe
Puppy dogs, autumn leaves 'n' BB guns
God didn't make little green apples
And it don't
the winter comes
And there's no such thing as make-believe
Puppy dogs, autumn leaves 'n' BB guns
God didn't make little green apples
And it don't
, autumn leaves 'n' BB guns...
your job every day
And then you work so hard 'til your hair turns gray
Let me tell you about life and about the way it is
You see, we live by the gun
your job every day
And then you work so hard 'til your hair turns gray
Let me tell you about life and about the way it is
You see, we live by the gun
Roses
Another bastard casket closes,
first come the Guns, and next is the mutha-fuckin Roses
I lay that boy down - He ain't gone get back up! X 4
.jpg/300px-GNR_London_Stadium_2017_3_(cropped).jpg "Guns N' Roses")
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