who's to say you never cared All your life was caught in a glare So hey, la, la, la, la Hey, la, la, la, la So who's to say you never cared All your
번역: 고향의 영웅. 누가 말할 수있어.
We go on because we would like to think there's hope. But that's a lie, there ain't no hope and that's the truth, that's the truth baby! That's right
' life on the streets, who's biddin' with me? Regardless, I'mma hold mine down, load my pound Target on the unknowns who roam my town There they go on
close to the edge Let's see if I know the ledge Corners' trifling 'cause shorty's here I get cock-d liffin' forty's of beer Here's a sip for the crew
people long for berlin and barcelona They yearn for paris, madrid and rome And I know some who prefer arizona And some prefer home There's only me who
No use worrying about what you missed Cause here it is baby it don't get better than this --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Birthday When is you birthday? What's your middle name? Who's your hero? What's
But I can't do it alone! She'd say, "What's your sister like?" I'd say, "Men," She'd say, "you're the cat's meow" Then we'd wow the crowd again When she
strip begging for hot wax A lonely upper lip and it's begging for a mustache A prison system that listens to the parables of Johnny Cash A wannabe war hero who
she's cried while he's away Because she knows deep in her heart That he'll be back someday The light's on in the window; she's waiting by the
're hot, I say We don't stop, the body rock All my people in Queens and the land in between say we Don't stop, the body rock Shaolin and LI say you know
he balanced the ashtray And he picked up the phone And said send me a songwriter Who's drifted far from home And make sure that he's hungry And make sure he's
if you from home town I'll put a slug in the dome clown 'Cause most of these rappers is talk I'm the nigga in the back of the court Wit 5 L's and a
to my father's plans. And as I grew older the constant comparison between my brother and myself left little doubt who was the image of perfection in my father's
father's plans. And as I grew older the constant comparison between my brother and myself left little doubt who was the image of perfection in my father's
king of this L.A shit tell me hommie is your blood crip Is your dog a bitch Cause the S.A say, they don't never see homes run around L.A. Fake ass ghost
's Houdini Our tracks say Life, Phi Life and don't disappear like a genie Communicating through your airwaves like a giant C.B. Cos this one's for your
