is right then I cant go wrong Holding on But I know right now I'll never make it Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow And figure out where to begin Maybe I wont
I can't go wrong. Holding on. But I know right now I'll never make it. Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow. And figure out where to begin. Then maybe I won
Превод: Хоме Гровн. Сутра.
? I tell her bartender just straight patron man I'm takin one of these girls home and we can do what we do we grown we can do what we do we grown
dudes, that's that Elton John shit Ahh, to each his own, I like a fruit that's grown I like a bad bitch from a decent home Me and Tip, it's that pimpin
goin' to spend this summer back home Back home (back home, back home, back home) I'll spend my summer (back home) Back home (back home) Back home (back home, back home, back home
with a lot of dudes, that's that Elton John shit ahhh, to each his own, I like a fruit thats grown I like a bad bitch from a decent home me and Tip, thats
so cold How do you expectin' our seeds gonna grow? When you trap us in the ghetto And show love, to the other muthafuckers While we right here starvin' at home
was a rolling stone 15 I was grown, 16 I was holding my own Is it wrong to sell you a dream, or sell you a zone A long way from home, on this road I roam
laser beam eyes You shake me up, got me spinning 'round You know what's going up must come down Tomorrow I'll be gone, a million miles from home The
Bring it home and put it in bottles, send us a rottle Drink a old ease grem like it wasn't tomorrow I'm gettin' kicked out of Junior High, thinkin' I'm grown
't figure it out Your kisses taste like honey Sweet lies don't gimme no rise Oh, for what you're trying to do Livin' on your cheatin' and the pain grows
I just wanna spend some time alone wit my niggaz Sometimes I wanna hop in the car And drive till tomorrow Sometimes I wanna hop in the car And just drive till tomorrow
make it to see tomorrow Ain't no tellin This one right here, for all the riders No matter what side you on Peep game Welcome to the killing fields Nigga, the home
's Just been stripped, I have just been ripped So I must then get, off this bus then split Man fuck this shit yo, I'm going the fuck home World on my
Do you still say your prayers little darlin' do you go to bed at night Prayin' that tomorrow, everything will be alright But tommorow's fall in number
