Fa service every woman make me lovin intuition Cause lazy body man dem outta style She want a lova man an me fit d profile Marathona runna bout five hundred mile
?s slowly movin? closer Wrote her a letter bout a week ago n?, to my surprise, she replied and said: Chorus It?s been a while since we said ?hi?, three hundred sixty-five
Was a disaster Sitting in bed at five Won't betray me within a lowman's eye Wasn't the sex Wasn't the wives Never fully go up the side With the disbelief
you hoes I blast on sight cause I ain't tripping no more [Z-Ro] You can't knock my hustle, ain't no games gone be played Even haters a hundred miles
, my nigga? (Murderous shit) Aiyo, aiyo [Verse 1: Raekwon] Word to the gold panamaras, and to the wood grain in my labo I go the extra mile, my flow
finders thirteen battalion of mind raiders three hundred master computer killers from great platforms in the mountains twenty mile lasers & great giant trackers... twenty miles
We marched 'neath the green flag of Saint Patrick Emblazoned with "Erin Go Bragh" Bright with the harp and the shamrock And "Libertad para Mexicana" Just fifty years after Wolftone Five thousand miles
The exhaust from the prison van is going to heaven, but I'm going to Attica Gonna put a hundred miles between me and my dealing habit I'm watching Poughkeepsie
'em.) Well, he rode through the woods on a big blue ox. He had fists as hard as chopping blocks. Five hundred pounds and nine
I find Game? I studied this rap shit, still a "Hundred Miles and Runnin'" Still makin Aftermath classics You might catch me out in traffic Oh-five Aston
can't help So heyyea heyyea heyyea ho! Ya catch the flow, too late I let it go If ya didn't already, act like ya know Five knuckle sandwich from five
'msayin? I'm I'm I'm watchin this nigga video (I'm gonna have to ask you to refrain from the language) the car goin two hundred miles an hour WHERE
I'm your native son, I'm the train they call The City of New Orleans, I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done. Dealin? card games with
I'm your native son, I'm the train they call The City of New Orleans, I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done. Les matins se suivent et
and barely coping Thinking you could ride the storm out, Hoping it would be all right Where were you when they gave the warning? Hundred fifty-mile winds
fools To live your pilgrim ways Don't hang that sign on me You're the stranger Don't try to talk to me You're the stranger And we drive Five hundred miles
? * The wealthy obscene with their obscene wealth Applaud the carnage from their grandstand. It's as if they were at Ascot laying their bets; Five to
Fine, pull the string, replay that shit I change my name to "did he really just say that shit?" Yep I'll take a mile if you let me Six-five, two hundred