hello I didn't see the end and so the story goes How can I be cool? I always play the fool I need a shot of love Look, an arrow through the heart My
Пераклад: Містэр Біг. Стрэлка.
hello I didn't see the end and so the story goes How can I be cool? I always play the fool I need a shot of love Look an arrow through the heart My mind
my gun on the bird like Mr. Brookes I thought of Saint Francis and his sparrows And as I shot down the youthful Richardson It was Sebastian I thought of and his arrows
needle drops like a pistol pops rocks the whole crowd they can't stop ladies wave and rave like slaves with this sound wave a guy's Mr. Hayes I pave
gun on the bird-like mr. brookes I thought of saint francis and his sparrows And as I shot down the youthful richardson It was st. sebastian I thought of, and his arrows
(Mr.Cheeks) Yo we come through like balls, see us niggas takin two pulls and pass nigga watch your back once you talk out your ass I pack a .380 in my
brimming with puss. So we hopped into our boat, hoping it would float, 'till we found a robo-monkey had chewed it like a goat. And a big hole remained
barrel pointing out my point camarro I get punished like Pharrow for splittin' You're better off singing Christmas carols for Christmas Because I'm on point like bow and arrow
ain't thinkin' 'bout me But I'm a pimp, mayne, so I'ma sharpen up my twos and 'bout that 'Cause that bitch lips so big Chopstick had to invent a spray
[Mr. Sancho] This is for the riders for the south siders The ones that get by the fuckin police when they find us Rollin deep through your streets
(mr.cheeks) Yo, we come through like balls, nigga take two puffs and pass, Nigga, watch your back once you talk out your ass I back up 3-80 and my stash
know Guns goin' bo, people hit the floor Don't have a piece but an arrow and bow Target it firm 'cause I'm head Comancho Charging barricades like a raging rhino The donuts come big
narrow, And it shoot a bunch, you just lunchin and munching like Farrel. Bloodshot eye's on the sparrow, I stay high, but on-point like an arrow. Street
gun on the bird-like Mr. Brookes I thought of Saint Francis and his sparrows And as I shot down the youthful Richardson It was St. Sebastian I thought of, and his arrows
ain't thinkin bout me But I'm a pimp mayne, so I'ma sharpen up my twos and bout that Cause that bitch lips so big chopstick had to invent a spray, fuck
house in my backyard And even my doghouse got a backyard Big cars, cigars and big biscuits The kid is doin' it big, it's "Big Business" My bosses in here
