fit (nope) I know I'm a bit flaky- but they make me It's they who hate me and say they can takee (c'mon) It's they whose legs I break and make achey It's they who
tour, we house program Donald-D is who I am, damn [Hen-Gee] Atttempt to do this, boy, you're takin a risk Cause my voice sounds doper than a compact disc
a nigga juke balls No action on the phones, no visitors Man I can't wait to go home Who's that baller, should I, I wanna go home I said a who, who's
Peedo] This hunger inside of me's unexplainable, Kris The struggle we put in this box will be put into disc Birth and ever, these family problems is hurtin' Both of my sisters
your momma shoulda taught you better I'mma sit down and write you a long letter. Chorus Dear Yvette x4 Verse 2 I'm glad you ain't my sister, then
[Chorus sung by RL on (Disc One), Richard Page on (Disc Two)] [2Pac] Perhaps I was addicted to the dark side Somewhere inside my childhood witnessed
I can probably sell a blank disc For my album drop, bitches buy it for the picture And niggas will buy it too and claim they got it for their sister Magazine
blank disc When my album drop, bitches'll buy it for the picture And niggas will buy it too and claim they got it for they sister Magazine paper girl,
innocence is somewhere in the garden Some of us are the sisters and the brothers Who prefer the nighttime for our cover A leather jacket and a single golden earring Hang out at discos
I could probly sell a blank disc. When my album drop bitches will buy it for the picture And niggas will buy it to and claim they got it for they sister
: [Chorus sung by RL on (Disc One), Richard Page on (Disc Two)] [2Pac] Perhaps I was addicted to the dark side Somewhere inside my childhood witnessed
disc When my album drop, bitches'll buy it for the picture And niggas will buy it too and claim they got it for they sister Magazine paper girl, the money
could probly sell a blank disc. When my album drop bitches will buy it for the picture And niggas will buy it to and claim they got it for they sister
This is the last day of our acquaintance I will meet you later in somebody's office I'll talk but you won't listen to me I know what your answer will
a fit (nope) I know I'm a bit flaky- but they make me It's they who hate me and say they can takee (c'mon) It's they whose legs I break and make achey It's they who