The leather soles go shuffling in, Stinking of smoke and ten cent gin. Now who will toast our noble host that has this morning given up the ghost? The
The leather soles go shufflin' in Stinking of smoke and ten cent gin Now who will toast our noble host Who has this mornin' given up the ghost? The wooden
Tradução: Embrague. Elogio a un fantasma.
The leather soles go shuffling in, Stinking of smoke and ten cent gin. Now who will toast our noble host that has this morning given up the ghost?
coat hangers Like purple broke up in the dutch Leave you broke up on a crush That's what happens when shooters choke up in the clutch We gonna body you
: My crimson covered hands - clutch heart strings newly broken moths breed in my entrails - hate washes through my fucking veins friendship turns to
in the breeze At forty five degrees in the sky Suddenly I felt something Had me by the belt And in between my praying Swore I heard a stallion neighing Was the ghost
at my school, nigga I rule You never make me holla, smokin on a fifteen dollar from across the water, watch your daughter She might catch the Holy Ghost
money, like Ink be blowing swishes I'm swinging low on dishes, them guts all yellow My paint sky blue, you could say my car mellow (CARMELO!) I get your girl to get ghost
when I lyricly slay Bring it on all my foes Mr. Shadow be the one that be killing mothafuckas Like told shove em all in holes Like a ghost i'ma hauncha
knocks an inch off Eddie Bauer Gucci sneaker rockin just another form of 'Chessboxin' No cock-blockin, supreme clientele, till I'm droppin Kangol slanted, Ghost
the ghost is deeper then most is leave out the house grab the toasters stuck in the sofa pop in the clip, hop in the whip tryna get the last drop 'fore
it's up to us to change This town called Malice Rows and rows of disused milk floats Stand dying in the dairy yard And a hundred lonely housewives clutch
with the big dogs, don't fuck with the big dogs Don't fuck with the big dogs, don't fuck with the big dogs Johnny blaze the ghost rider, ghost stories
the block, through the alley Though the backdoor into a lobby When I came in, I saw the kid backin' up, with his gat in his clutch And floor full of stuff
I'm blowing money, like Ink be blowing swishes I'm swinging low on dishes, them guts all yellow My paint sky blue, you could say my car mellow (CARMELO!) I get your girl to get ghost
