my mind, emotional thangs And there goes.. a black girl.. lost [Nas] Like Isis, she got you heartbroke and felt lifeless Grow up girl instead you want
ol' games Messin' with my mind, emotional thangs And there goes, a black girl, lost Like Isis, she got you heartbroke and felt lifeless Grow up girl
with my mind, emotional thangs And there goes.. a black girl.. lost [Nas] Like Isis, she got you heartbroke and felt lifeless Grow up girl instead you
Übersetzung: In. Black Girl Lost (feat. Jojo Hailey).
Übersetzung: In. Black Girl Lost.
don't understand him, it don't mean that he nice It just means you don't understand all the bullshit that he write Is it "Oochie Wally Wally" or is it "One Mic"? Is it "Black Girl Lost
lets go, yeah! [Nas] Uh, ghetto children singing "singing" [Nas] See they eager to learn "uh hum" [Nas] how to become the next world leaders "Bravehearts"! Chorus:[Nas
Nas)] [Verse 3: Nas] Gypsies, preachers, choirs, churches, liquor stores The world is full of liars, curses, people rich or poor Without God to worship, see we would be more lost
credits roll They're starrin Nas, executive poet, produced directed by the Kid slash Escobar; narration describes the lives of lost tribes in the ghetto tryin to survive The feature opens with this young black
these last days and times Verse Two: Nas The way to be, paradise like relaxin black, latino and anglo-saxon Armani exchange the reins Cash, Lost Tribe
pussy-hole fi fun [Nas Escobar] Hot corners, cops with warrants, every block is boring Friday night, getting bent, lick a poem My dawg, not even home a month yet, and blaze a girl
silence? For brothers who died from black-on-black violence From here to the Dark Continent were rebels sell diamonds To clients allover the world, got little Black girls
, it don't mean that he nice It just means you don't understand all the bullshit that he write Is it 'Oochie Wally Wally' or is it 'One Mic'? Is it 'Black Girl Lost
roll They're starrin' Nas, executive poet, produced directed by The Kid Slash Escobar narration describes The lives of lost tribes in the ghetto tryin' to survive The feature opens with this young black
ain't put me here Burnt my block, I had a fiend cookin' wit' beer Like the Bobby Womack of crack Might see me in the burgundy thing, or the black on black
