Letras:
P O S That One

a bruised heart And I remember Tossing with tears, cause the sleep's hard If you remember That face smell on a pillow cover is not the smell of love anymore That's

"Nigga, whatcha here fo'?" I'm like, "Don't be actin' like I don't be givin that doe." That thing that you need That thing that you know If we was at

-night chasing I met a girl mixed with Asian I ain't one to seem impatient So I told her it was late-forget a date And B.o.B wanna layin And that's the

Cause nikkas that slip don't last long [Chorus:] We got em goin down for the count Lookin down at the ground That's why we got hataz That's why we got

F-A, B-O, L-O, U-S Yeah, that's the bad guy [Pain In Da Ass] You need people like me So you can point your fucking fingers And say, "That's the bad guy

s 2 o'clock in the afternoon, I'm 'bout to roll a swisher Cause that's what real niggas do when they at home Watchin' E.S.P.N. on a 70 inch flatscreen

career is over We in QB, banging CNN in the rover T-O-N-Y, that's the phony NORE You ain't the talk of New York, your sixteens is boring Take that shit

hub and every ghetto ain't the same A lot of people already know exactly where it's at Cause it's the home of the jackers and the crack (Compton!) Yeah that's

career is over We in QB, banging CNN in the rover T-O-N-Y, that's the phony NORE You ain't the talk of New York, your sixteens is boring Take that shit