per cucinare non mi manca mai! Non confondere la merda con la cioccolata, o gli stronzi con gli involtini, Io penso proprio, che oggi cucinero la frittata
: You know I like my chicken fried A cold beer on a Friday night A pair of jeans that fit just right And the radio up Well I was raised up beneath
: A longueur de journee, on parle de gun et de tass La variet' est trop vener, on squatte la tete et les charts Les voyous prennent le micro, peuvent
: Lyrics/Music: Luciano Ligabue Ed. Fuoritempo Edizioni Musicali - Correggio (RE) | Warner Chappell Music Italiana - Milano Album: 2002 - Fuori come
: Yes I'm Mother Nature's son And I'm the only one I do what I want and I want what I see Could only happen to me I'm so free, I'm so free Oh please
: Free life Scratch on my head Pick me a tune Sing it like a black man Oh, oh, oh, mm, mm, mm Aw Free life You know my name I'll leave on a light And
You know I like my chicken fried A cold beer on a Friday night A pair of jeans that fit just right And the radio up Well, I was raised up Beneath the
Time: 3:15 beach bum music bmi Producer: brian wilson/russ titelman Mixed by hugh padgham assisted by bob vogt at a & m recording studios Brian wilson
I was walking down 42nd street one day, I wasn't workin'42nd street I was walkin 42nd street. And this amazing thing happened to me. It was July it
Yes, I am mother nature's son And I'm the only one I do what I want and I want what I see Huh, could only happen to me I'm so free, I'm so free Oh,
Instrumental
She's a good girl, loves her mama Loves Jesus and America too She's a good girl, crazy 'bout Elvis Loves horses and her boyfriend too It's a long day
The whole pie was your piece The fillin' your pride Jivin? ?round the kitchen Just carryin' on No pies are coolin' on the window Still empty inside Your
(lighter clicking in the background) now this is what im talking about baby(inhaling) and this is for the weed heads and this is for the weedheads get
Government authorize education Don't mean a thing They'll teach you what they want you to think Don't mean a thing Now saturation, stars and stripes
If dogs run free, then why not we Across the swooping plain? My ears hear a symphony Of two mules, trains and rain The best is always yet to come That
On six-six-six six, I was little, I didn't know Shit and on seven-seven-seven seven Eleven years later, still don't know any better By eight-eight-eight
she was dancin' with me for two or three songs i was doin' alright until he came along now she's holdin' his hand and they walk out the door it's just