patterns and flowers, but Mariella just crossed her arms and so she cried for hours. Mariella. Mariella. My pretty, baby girl Unglue your lips from being together and wear some pink
a fuck anyways Radio was my crown of thorns, I ain't proud to put on Turn the volume all the way up, still didn't sound too strong Pink hero rappers,
space. Jocko looked up with a tear in his heart and, Lord, he wished he could fly For she never looked down at a baggy pants clown who looked up with
: Well it's out of the fryin' pan and into the fire You bent over, baby, and let me be the driver Just a cut of pink, wouldn't believe me if I told
pink panther Smooth like Rob Thomas, (when he's with Santana) And if you saw him too, you'd think he's in GQ X-change you like Armani, pick up something
't you And as long, as you keep fuckin with us, we keep fuckin you up And keep pullin the rug from up under you And what's ever more fucked up, is we
if they ain't got the gat, they got the knife on. You're too whack to get up on one of y song. You gotta deal, cause u was givin up da coochie prolly,
sick But uh I can't help muh retarded chick Cause my flow stupid wheelchair bound Take the small bus all year round That bitch hop out with a helmet on her head
Listen [Jermaine Dupri:] Ya'll know what this is [Nelly:] Let's Go We used to ditch school and head straight up to the mall Just so we can be the first
: You're pink, you're young, you're middle-class 15 blue shirts and womanly hands OK, it doesn't matter But you should have seen me shoot up the ladder
: You?re pink you?re young you?re middle-class they say it doesn?t matter fifteen blue shirts and womanly hands you?re shooting up the ladder Your
up die Vibes, wir kicken die Dinger wie immer mit Style. Wir hitten mit Covers wie Dickies, anscheinend kann keiner mehr ohne die beiden hier feiern, big up die Heads
Roses [Chorus x2] [Tech N9ne:] Some say I have bad brains That I'm out of my mind now So when I open the door and my head royalty shines down I motor head
: [Intro: Method Man] Damn... yo, yo [Method Man] Woke up in the morning, like ten A.M Walked passed the Listerine, went straight for the gin Osama
drop four thirty on my way to rock-a-burdy With automatic lead in the car, bread in the car Plus I'm gettin' head in the car My wedding tomorrow More dutchies to the head
hands up What, what, put your hands up Come on, come on, keep your hands up We back, we back, we back, we back (put your hands up) We back, we back
sweets A sickly pink liquid That puts me to sleep My head beats a better way Tomorrow a better day And I can watch TV While I'm wrapped up in bed And
sleep a wink And I could only get unconscious If I'd had to much to drink There was somehow, something wrong somewhere, And each day seemed grey and dead The seeds of desperation Were growing in my head