a week, can't find your home! Welcoming down to the b.e.i.j.i.n.g. What you gonna do, what you gonna listen What you gonna search, what you gonna check Buy a
Crucified I still remember that night, it was the fourth of July It's still engraved in my mind and I'm not surprised Gang wars, no guns hand to hand
who the fuck got that street shit (L.A. niggas) My nigga who the fuck got that street shit (Real niggas) A motherfuckin' fiend, before I became a teen
two weeks out of every summer. My grandpa's name was Henry Toliver Sawyer and he was a guard at the Atmore state prison farm. Going up there for two weeks
Through Back Then Light Sweaters And A Couple Drinks Might Get Her, By The End Of The Week I Would Know *Their* Crew And We'd Assembled A Trio, A Whole
It seems just like yesterday When Julie showed up and took daddy away The way that dress wore her, a fitting reminder... oh yeah! That year everything
A tree, a tree. Billy was a mountain Ethel was a tree growing off of his shoulder Billy was a mountain Billy was a mountain Ethel was a tree growing
the name of: STINK FOOT Y'know, my python boot is too tight I couldn't get it off last night A week went by, an' now it's July I finally got it off An
my way after today Max: She looked right through me And who could blame her? I need a new me Plus some positive proof that I'm not just a goof Cheerleaders
dance, round your handbags, Dance dance, round your handbags, Now. Me boyfriend's a twat, He's getting on me tits, An' he hasn't shagged us for a week
back of my bus its nice to have someone think for me thats why I now live in hb a tattoo a goatee a wallet chain every single asshole looks the same a
Wild rebel rose, so I never told you How I'd watch from the house across the street When those blue lights came around At least three times a week It
Julie?s clocking out at the station Hurry up and get your pay A two day vacation Friday, Saturday Down in the basement Shower up in the sink Throw on
seventy two in a sixty five On I-24 in a four wheel drive Got a ten o'clock on Eighteenth Avenue And there's a thirty percent chance of rain all week
dunn, they tried to knock me down, bury me under Big pipes soundin' like thunder Skated by the skin of my teeth I had to put a man in his place last week
Letra y musica: Juan Luis Guerra How many days could I count in a week since that Monday I found you were gone how many tears could I drop without healing
weather in July. And we're so by God stubborn We could stand touchin' noses For a week at a time And never see eye-to-eye. But what the heck, you're welcome
dunn, they tried to knock me down, bury me under Big pipes soundin like thunder Skated by the skin of my teeth, I had to put a man in his place last week