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Search results for 'three little birds by 13ghosts' Page #6
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the barman holds aloft the crystal glass And I'm having all that's in the bubble in the bottom of the bottle Then by three or four, your head's a bit
the barman holds aloft the crystal glass And I'm having all that's in the bubble in the bottom of the bottle Then by three or four, your head's a bit
just a ghetto child trying to make it Mamma, I'm just a ghetto child trying to make it I feel like a bird nigga with no wings I'm stuck in this
ex girl her shit back and give her the bird Give my boss a little attitude for making me work all night twelve pack of bud light Sitting around
, she'd be a Macaw He don't speak with me for 5 But I fuck em up in 4 Yeah I roll up all the TREE(3) & smoke dankwoods by the dos Beat ya like my name was
Kidnap Mr. Sandy Claws? I wanna do it Let's draw straws Jack said, "we should work together" Three of a kind, birds of a feather Now
Kidnap Mr. Sandy Claws? I wanna do it Let's draw straws Jack said, "we should work together" Three of a kind, birds of a feather Now
Kidnap Mr. Sandy Claws? I wanna do it Let's draw straws Jack said, "we should work together" Three of a kind Birds of a feather Now
Rise up this mornin' Smile with the risin' sun Three little birds Pitch by my doorstep Singin' sweet songs Of melodies pure and true Sayin',
their eyes? Why do people pray to steeples likely built by the evil? Why do the evil get a slap on the wrist instead of lethal? Why do we keep on voting
smile with the rising sun (Yeah-Yeah!) Three little birds, pitched by my doorstep (Yo-Yo!) Singing sweet songs (hey now), of melodies pure and true (Hey
My dead eye took my dream of learning how to fly Instead I put a harness on and I learned how to climb I look down on my town with my own bird's eye
amount 2 1 I want but this the real you. You know I never judge, but know someone who does, (Bridge 1) (0:40 - 1:20) Leave, little Serena, 4 I must
might just fuck around and hug a tree A tree without a bird 'cause I deserve every fuckin' leaf 1, 2, 3; triple OG At the T-O-P, smokin' P-O-T From
talk, these little birds So forget whatchu heard So if somehow I'm caught up on your my way up to the 3rd My 3rd eye saw them birds Let their chirps go
on the FDR, big cigar Explain You can tell there's a star in one of these cars She's with Ghostface, yeah a bird on her wrist Mask on face,
this good Since you don't know when Only getting started and it's 3am I can't believe it thats why we're in love Well it's a drop off by the WICKR
a tan, but I'm black already Your pockets on a diet, my pockets fat already Three niggas with me, me myself and I God don't like ugly, you should
nose, cutting it’s teeth Pretzled up in special order vinyl, and birds that dip their belts in little metal porcupine quills, 2 dutch at a show in
I've been too long with my nose in a book I hope you sing just as good as you look Come on over baby, I got a song for you A little jump
Pull out the fast white cut Know the gas price up So I need a few racks by dusk Why you tryna gas mike up Little asswipe punk You wish you could
the birds and the bees Talking to the future little version of me Ima tell them about the birds and the bees
bits By some Pollock I know in Evergreen Park and dip them in the potion And drop them in Buckingham Fountain at 3:13 on Friday morning. And then
and hugging Dinner dinner no loving Makin them exterminate the fame so they can see me the same When the chain go away Fight at the top it's a bird fight now
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