Breakfast in cemetery Boy tastin wild cherry Touch girl, apple blossom Just a boy playin possum We'll come back for Indian Summer We'll come back for
Do you remember last night At a friendly home we both stretched out on a sofa In the night we watched the clouds That ran up above us slideshow on the
Übersetzung: La Luna. Indian Summer (Beat Happening).
do was boot em up He got the buck now who the fuck want it? I can't see it happen, clips be clappin' Cappin' you til' you see through Bitch go ask B3
s (How B?) Movin' these fuckin' kees (Where B?) Run em' in that U.P.T. (And who gone run em?) Tha brotha and my B.G. [B.G.] You gotta beat em (That nigga
I'm comin' through the fog, Dressed in black Knock Yo muthafuckin' head off Bitch nigga stop playin' wit me First Verse: Spark it up make it happen,
: What if I said, I was an accident waiting to happen Woudl I trip and fall, fall on my words And would you say, say that I was wrong My words were out
us dawg like adam we fallin dawg and still he's callin dawg and sometimes we be stalling dawg gone ran like an athlete on the trac beat and the to pack
like them G-Dep dancers (damn dude) (*50 Cent - harmonizing "doo,doo,doo"*] *beat stops [Lloyd Banks] What the fuck happen to the rest of the beat
and shine Keep your eyes on yours while I keep my eyes on mine [Verse 2] First it happened to Stretch then to Pac and Big I'm convinced it can happen
work out to leave this bitch cut up let a nigga find out you on some goin' home shit and you tryin' to bounce without payin' a loan, shit some niggas beat
I speak, that you notice 'Cause it's sort of unique 'cause you know it's me My poetry's deep, and I'm stillmatic, the way I flow to this beat You can
can't whoop ya ass You'll neck'll get snapped with bare hands, fuck music Is he rappin'? It's cool but fools, just don't confuse it What happens: these
heart skips a beat It's every note that you wrote and I hope that you choke on the lines You're wasting my time, another heart beats tonight In a clear
1: Beenie Man: Why everyday a pure gunshot a buss pure bomb a fling? Pure stone a fling pure lass a swing what is happening? Mama all a cry sista
tooth comb. I was soft inside. There was something going on. You do something to me that I can't explain. Hold me closer and I feel no pain. Every beat
: I be on the hotline Like err?day Makin? sure the DJ know what I want him to play You know I got my top back and my beat loud Rockin? my stunnin? shades
