And if I only could, Make a deal with God And get him to swap our places (Be) Running up that road (Be) Running up that hill (Be) Running up that Building
large clouds of smoke through my chalice. (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours. [LAURYN] Bust this scenario, can't no other
're bangin' out Jeeps rockin' beats in the streets when there's time for hangin' out Gather, or rather form a circle around a loud 'Cause brothers or others
John Riley came from Galway town in the years of the Irish hunger And he sailed away to America when the country was much younger Now the place was strange
, yeah) Some bullshitters, know what I'm saying (yeah) Straight runnin. wild (realize) doing their thang, yeah For all those Nino Brown niggas (yeah) John
By Edward Heyman, John Green, Robert Sour, & Frank Eyton Don't you know, he was the king of saxophones Yes indeed he was; Talkin' 'bout the guy that
bangin' out jeeps rockin' beats in the streets when there's time for hangin' out gather, or rather form a circle around a loud 'cause brothers or others
clouds of smoke through my chalice. (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours. [LAURYN] Bust this scenario, can't no other
like Bruce Willis What I mean is you die slow from the hands of true killers Know these two villains, Lil' Free and Cron Gotti Don like John Gotti, with
