Текст песне
Pretty Things Atlanta

the trees. But you know I'll return For atlanta I burn Atlanta you're my home All my life, all my days. I like atlanta, stayed there awhile Kind of

preachin', reachin', teachin', speakin', being, breathin' You're not, your clock stop, and now you're laying in a pretty box And now pastor is only talking 'bout the pretty

that I've done is divine, ask God, he'll tell ya, yeah, he mine So, you see, you don't need another thug out of me That is the last thing I plan to be

Yo I dibble and dabble with bras from the A to LA And regardless where they stay they all respect what I say I got one in Houston, Texas Pretty little thing

One goes through this rhyme that you He made up his mind That every little thing he does Be designed to entertain you Ooh, his whole life through He'

You ain't never gotsta to worry about That chick telling you "Cam, you don't treat me the way you used to" That's what I'm sayin' nigga But see the thing

, uchi wale, uzzi bang bang Mami from Japan, and probably on your rang-a-lang And you niggas won't bang-a-thing I'm wally? wipe your gang-and-them So

always chasin' Straight down and dirty for my props Eleven years old, extramanish, hard-headed sellin' them rocks I killed an old wack motherfucker, no one ever bigger than me Prettiest thing

said her name was Alabama She from a little town outside Savannah Where everybody talk that country grammar She said she killed a man down in Atlanta