Превод: Фат Везе. Страит Горе Глупо.
Превод: Фат Везе. Везивање Пхат.
ya if I snub ya then nigga I get richer picture this bitch had a block bitch slanged rocks bitch sold glocks an had ties wit the cops now I's
a match To bust the game wide open, I'mma need an axe I juggle this, practice, smuggle heroin in the cactus Keep a hood, I still go and fuck a fat bitch
With a little brown rice and some black eye peas Or 2 black eyes and 2 broke knees And 2 broke niggas tryin to steal the cheese Got family ties, your
[Intro: Fat Joe] Yeah! This is it y'all (Darkside), Darkside Volume One Hope you enjoyed We had to take you out classic status, you feel me? We had to
tints, for sticky events Suspense makes the lead dispense A baby oil massage when I'm feelin? intense Fly mami's with ki's taped to their bo-ties Transportin
you just yap a whole lot About the clothes that you got, yo, or the gold that you got Everybody sees all the friends in your Benz, yo, it's fat But they
, fuck around and make your face crack I know niggaz that shoot dope, arms lookin' like a racetrack Nigga missed a vein in his neck, his whole face fat
and fall so far Imitation of Christ Imitation of Christ Fly to the moon dear, sew it on a stool Ties on the carpet, all the cowboys fall See the cowboys fat
hair trigger semi-automatic Mack 11 just to scare niggaz Pardon my thug poetry, but suckers is born everyday and fear of man - grow on trees Criminal ties
was a twenty piece orchestra at the Warwick hotel Some fat man from the opera who tried to sing Missty Black men and black boys in white ties and tails
mistress is dipped cuz you buy her stuff. You little round glasses: Scrooge McDuck. Ascot, sometimes a top hat, walking a dog the size of a rat, your black ties
despise Especially me, H A V O C, don't want your chick 'Cuz she's burning third degree, plus you snitchin', you ain't got No ties on me, I keep it strong
I got my son makin hits A nine to five it's a job to survive F--k the lies and connives and all them company bribes I'm Family Ties for my seeds I'd
a moustache and glasses too thick to see his eyes tucked up next to him a fat overnight bag with a hole in the side and you could see one of his ties
, middle class Half caste one of a critical mass Broke the old mold smashed the last cast If you ask me don't believe the hype of the past 'Cos political ties
ties And they was wise and funny and funny and wise Staying up late and playing the music With grown ups was my prize The little fat kid with sparkling
