't wanna talk You better know that this is all your fault I hope you know that this is all your fault You can't look back all that shit doesn't matter
move on without me Just don't forget that this is all your fault all your fault You can't come back, things could never be the same as before Can't
Tradução: Plain White T es. Tu Culpa.
don't wanna talk You better know that this is all your fault I hope you know that this is all your fault You can't look back all that shit doesn't matter
move ["Move" Echo] 50 ain't gangsta Lloyd Banks ain't gangsta Yayo ain't gangsta Young Buck, you know you ain't gangsta Look at what you niggas made Ain't
move (Move Echo) 50 ain't gangsta Lloyd Banks ain't gangsta Yayo ain't gangsta Young Buck, you know you ain't gangsta You at what you niggas made Ain't
't so easy Somedays, somedays, somedays (Somedays) just ain't so easy Somedays, somedays, somedays (Somedays), somedays (Somedays) Just ain't so easy It's not the fault
, for sure I can't love you this much, I can't love you this much I can't love you this much, I can't love you this much I can't love you this much,
ho, punt Forced trauma, blunt You play the back bitch, I'm in the front You need a job, this ain't cuttin' it Nicki Minaj is who you ain't fuckin' with
all about the money What the fuck you think I do it for? Bitch don't act like you don't know I'm killing all these rap niggas Custom made casket for your
you get shot, makin' all that loud noise Have your pistol on your side like the cowboys 'Cause you can make a lot of money when you sellin' dope Sell your
And while your in the studio, I'm in the trunk You got no choice, so don't flip that coin This ain't the military, so you punks can't join It ain't pop
, then the homie switch Bitch, ain't getting nothing but a lesson taught If your pimping ain't strong, it's not my fault Hoes start choosing, wouldn't
ghetto) The ghetto The ghetto (Funk funky ghetto) So much game in a too $hort rap Blacks can't be white and whites can't be black Why you wanna act
tie-rod quit hollering "Why, God?" He ain't got sh-t to do with it Bygones will never be bygones so won't be finished swallowing my wad I ain't finished
cut where I'm seated Snatch you from your cloud of cannabis, you ignoramuses You laid on your lap, when I attack your glamorous Lifestyle, I banged your head up with the white