gold Everything is turning Everything is turning Everything is turning (Everything is turning) Everything is turning (Turning, turning) Everything is turning (Everything is turning) Everything is turning (Turning, turning
Übersetzung: Rolling Stones. Alles ist Gold Turning.
gold Won't buy back the beat of a heart grown cold Silvio I gotta go Find out something only dead men know Honest as the next jade rolling that stone
B.O.B.B., straight up, Masta Killa, the Gza, the Genius.. It's the Ol' D-d-dza-za-za Diiiirty Bastard! [music starts] [ODB] Straight Up..turn it up, the headphones, turn
B.O.B.B., straight up, Masta Killa, the Gza, the Genius.. It's the Ol' D-d-dza-za-za Diiiirty Bastard! [music starts] [ODB:] Straight Up..turn it up, the headphones, turn
To Africa, home away, the six text-tillion Turn, Siskel and Ebert givin' two thumbs New York Times call it my best work, bump to it You can Rolling Stone
write lyrics no more, I manufacture Cold shit, you know that Old Gold shit, that raw shit That drunken Alkahol shit that make you say, "Ahhh Shit!" Them motherfuckers is
e gotta bring my partna in yeah that Pokey hes comin out that Southside, yeah the Stone you know he's comin through with a pocket full of stones (Big
America To Africa, home away, the six text-tillion Turn, Siskel and Ebert givin' two thumbs New York Times call it my best work, bump to it You can Rolling Stone
a hell of a past Looks like tomorrow is coming on fast Ain't complaining 'bout what I got Seen better times, but who has not? Silvio, silver and gold
us follow in our ride follow right behind, follow on up we gone come down Benz and bladed up truck all that shit, all that shit is good and everything
hooker, she focused A hopeless soul on a lonely road I showed her all my stones and gold I said, ?Bitch, life is cold, you need to roll with a nigga?
young for that rule Rule one, you must have knowledge of self To know the only one you follow is self Anything else is useless, the truth is the youth is
's got an expiration date so process everything and you had better speculate. This is for the ghouls, kick the doors off the tomb- We are young forever that is
even write lyrics no more, I manufacture Cold shit, you know that old gold shit, that raw shit That drunken alkahol shit that make you say, aw shit Them motherfuckers is
I?ll soar through every time zone Then pose with Mick and Keith on the cover of the Rolling Stone (Chorus) © 2005 Chris Hawkey Music (ASCAP) All Rights Reserved Unauthorized duplication is
time?s tingling spines attaching hands to floor the rosy-tinted flash The hot dog?s getting cold and you?ll never be as good as the Rolling Stones watch
