That's your phone I think you gonna need an excuse in the morning cos we aint gonna say good night. I think you gonna need an excuse in the morning cos
Dear sir I write this note to you to tell me of me plight, And at the time of writing, I am not a pretty sight. Me body is all black and blue, me face
That's your phone You gonna answer your phone, yeah? It could be your boss and that like Asking why you didn't come to work and that today, yeah? I think
ترجمه: دوبلینیها. توجه داشته باشید بیمار.
That's your phone You gonna answer your phone, yeah? It could be your boss and that like Asking why you didn't come to work and that today, yeah? I
: That's your phone You gonna answer your phone, yeah? It could be your boss and that like Asking why you didn't come to work and that today, yeah?
Bad Boy in' the house for the '95 Big shout out to my man Mel Smith My man Don Cee San in' the house What's up Michelle Ray, what's up boo? Sick of mama
I'm so sick of sucking the dick of this cruel cruel city I've forgotten what it takes to please a woman But that's all gonna change (2x) Now the freaks
down with whatever, just don't interrupt my countin' Ballin' on a daily basis, call my accountant Only time you make it rain when you throwin' change in a fountain Flow sick
, NEW YORK The brave, the great The Eastside nigga, the Empire State Yo, we don't negotiate, we move on impulse You try to insult me and my associates So that note
how we do, we do it for the people And the struggle of the brothas and the folks With lovers under dope, experiments to discover hopes Scuffle for notes
Yo, yo, enta, enta Enta, enta It's the synical lyrical rap individual On my death bed I spit sick flows that's critical I'm not a fan of this, I'm a
won't go, I went to see the doctor X-rays it won't show, I even wrapped myself up in blankets Just like a cold cause I'm so sick-wid-it It just happened
I change the plot, when we was at Jacob That chain was hot, is he on or what? Nigga cop the broach, in the double R And you got the notes, so I know
they call this Amnesia SKEPTA Last night was Sick, oh what a city. I lost my phone though oh what a pity When I woke up I found a note that said.
my cheese, think I'm lyin', silly negro, please My niggaz is out to get rich, better watch out man 'cause they sick Somebody better get this dick, I'm about to get sick