a finger. If you have your theory say so. I'm sure it's interesting. If it's not water. It must be wine. Marrow from the bones in my back is sifting blue
ترجمه: هیچ کدام بیشتر سیاه. چه در داخل استخوان.
something, (Suck somethin) Wild out, D-Block shirt inside out, Hoodie on with the all black ballushies on, Jab you till your motherfuckin face is torn, (Uh-huh) Toungue is gone, (What
of them Po-Po's, the Bone, Bone won't let a me duck, Lil' B won't set up, wet up, get 'em on the get up, Bone won't let up (Chorus) [Busta Rhymes]
the homies come and tell you 'bout some more I don't know when the time will be Which side of me, whom you might see Be careful what you ask for That's
(Layzie Bone) It's the art, art of war, art of war It's the art, art of war, art of war It's the art, art of war, art of war It's the art, art of war,
your fuckin' soul It's not a problem when I buck you bitch, I do it smooth That's what the devil's daughter do, now Fly what would you do? Clizick with
them suckas) I do it smooth That's what the Devil's Daughter do, (this lady boo would do) now (Paul) Fly what would you do? Note: (Fly's flo is not
two shots of penicillin goes up your adrenalin son it's time for boutin It's a mileage resemblin niggaz who like followin Trapped inside your projects like a genie inside
zirconia What did I just show ya, real lyrics doggone ya Look inside my rap book at every text my man And see that I got, more essays than the Mexican The Messiah that's
delicacies See can't another brother cook these delicacies Ah, that's how, that's how I'm supposed to do my thing, huh Like triple it, alright That's
feeble moon provided her with light As she opened up the cover and began to read the page Fly, soul, the body's guest, Upon your impish arrant Let none
she opened up the cover and began to read the page Fly, soul, the body's guest, Upon your impish arrant Let none be guiled by false confession Truth shall
time is up!" He's still the type poised to make a come back. Kill the white noise until the sun's black. Moonwalk around New York City and get murdered
kept most inside of me For sure, was a quiet type and inside a drawer Peeps tried to lock me out like, yeah, fun, it's for more Straight outta war,
's time for boutin' It's a mileage resemblin' niggaz who like followin' Trapped inside your projects like a genie inside the bottle God steppin' forth upon holy down of the track It's
