: Pop Girl Material good girl Loves giving back finer things in this world But She's my girl, do what I gotta do. Pay her to the gate Give her whatever
Pop Girl. Material Girl, loves dreamin' 'bout the finer things of this world But She's my girl, do what I gotta do. Payin to the game, Get her whatever
Today I found a baby's glove Lying on the drainage board, so still Yesterday a leather glove From the slim tinkered hand of a woman The next time I saw
I can't believe the words that you said to me I thought that we were in love together I can't believe the words that you said to me I'm not afraid of
[Instrumental]
When I'm back from the road And you're out on it And I'm tired of this distance And I believe it's over, it's over rated And this phone tag game is endless
Stars are bright - All is right All is gone - All is wrong Overcome with this glove Gonna change our lives Well useful thoughts they come up now For
a pencil drawn line of fire smoking birds in a downward spiral trails of charcoal trails of gray half burnt feathers the eagle crash-landing now. as scary
Every night I dream the same old frightning nightmare Calling out for answers no one can explain Voices in the distance cannot understand them Faces look
(Peters) She was a chanceless contender in the Deborah Harry Look alike contest a long time ago He was an upcoming doctor wearing rubber gloves That is
[Intro: Raekwon] Eight million stories, nigga Take ya'll niggas somewhere, man Ya'll niggas never heard niggas rhyme like this before, man This ain't
Me fanno ride' mo' 'n televisione, Un professore 'n mezzo a 'na lezione, fa' mette' 'n piedi tutti li studenti femmine e maschi, 'nzomma, tutti quanti
When I'm back from the road then you're out on it and i'm tired of this distance and I believe it's over, it's over-rated. And this phone tag game is
You know what I hate? When I'm awake and dreaming. Pry this wish from my cold dead hands. My lifeless body will point you in the right direction. As
[Tony Yayo] them bullets comin like the grim reapa, they hurt like natural birth without anesthesia, every lil n*gga got sour they scrambblin, theyll
Without, the desires that brought us all this pain. I will strive beyond all regret, I can face the fears that conquered me. To the grave I will not
Un guanto precipito da una mano desiderata a toccare il pavimento del mondo in una pista affollata. Un gentiluomo, un infedele lo segui con lo sguardo