: Les peines de coeur et les tourments Ca fait plus mal qu'un mal de dent Je connais ca, je connais ca Mais si je commence a mon tour A pleurer sur les
trust you to kill me with your love Your words mean nothing at all I trust you to kill me with your love Your words mean nothing at all Your words mean
Not afraid of dying But now I want off this ride cause your scaring me and I don't like where were going I need a new fun fair cause your scaring me and
shore People come and people go I can hear their laughter through my door But no-one's keeping score; Oranges on appletrees Bugs that mate with bumblebees
Hoe pimping all day bitch, this ain't a hobby My name Tony, not Paul McCartney I'm in a 7 star suite, Dutchin' my haze Remote in my hand, model bitch on my mate
: We used to go out nightly To the armoury You used to be my team mate Or that's the way it seemed We lost our friends Because you wanted to They
5 wrote your rhymes Check the signs See the decline of income Going out for the crumb Your style's still dumb #10 was the label mate of # 8&9 Whining
in the country jail Keep your head up, cause things are getting better My cell mate shed tears off your last love letter Told him you would find a friend so keep your
so disrespectful [Verse 1] Your daddy fucked your mama then fucked your sister Then climbed in the bed playin with your sugar Go 'head, take your belt
get robbed Your van crashed your warmer, yuh tink a we nuh feel glad Wipe your face man yuh feel sad BountyKiller mi artist wuk hard fi get your fame
predator Cuz I'll bust in your session and kick my own raps, yes Grab the microphone and show you where the forms at Tell your girl adapts cuz the rhyme
gets intimidated by the dirty pigeons - they love a bit of it. (Parklife!) Who's that gut lord marching? You should cut down on your porklife, mate, get
: [feat. Plies] What's yo phone number? Take my phone, put it in, then your song, mama Can I catch you at your crib? What's your home number? I got
hope That on the day I go to Heaven Heavenly Father will shake my hand And say, "You've done an awesome job, Kevin" Now it's our time to go out (My best
a blue sky I wear my blue jeans and fly my blue kite It hangs like a bluebird until the wind dies And then the tears pour out of my blue eyes If it is your
you sold our friendship, you're on your fucking own. (because) If I had it my way I'd slit your throat with the knife you left in my back all the shame
: Cos my mate's were all Gary Boys yeah, Talking like geezers with too much gel in their hair, What you wearing on your feet there son? Is that Reebok
up Ooh-ooh growin' up The flag of piracy flew from my mast my sails were set wing to wing I had a jukebox graduate for first mate she couldn't sail