turks There are fools They're in lockers They're in schools They're in you Then there was you Burn my fingers Burn my toes Burn my uncle Burn his books
are Turks, there are fools They're in lockers, they're in schools There in you, then there was you Burn my fingers, burn my toes Burn my uncle, burn
翻訳: バウハウス. サードアンクル.
翻訳: イーノ、ブライアン. サードアンクル.
are Turks There are fools They're in lockers They're in schools They're in you Then there was you Burn my fingers Burn my toes Burn my uncle Burn his
screwin' me, two and three truancies Four shots, one toolie G, one uliogy My mother and girl is smothered in pearls Before a nigga under the world When I was eleven got the truly dict My uncle
gun? Welcome to tha hood Gotta pocket full of crack? Welcome to tha hood Lost your money shooting caps? Welcome to tha hood Have you ever been car-jacked? Welcome to tha hood Uncle
Welcome to the hood Got a pocket full of crack? Welcome to the hood Lost your money shootin' craps? Welcome to da hood Have you ever been car-jacked? Welcome to da hood Uncle
multiply And give thanks to most high, 24/7 brothers got to make a living Overcome the odds is the only decision Cast like my pawn with your third eye
seen a Schwarzenegger movie Where he's shootin' all sorts of these motherfuckers with a Uzi I sees three little kids, up in the front row Screamin, "Go", with their seventeen year old uncle
Uncle Marshall! Will you tell us a bedtime story? Here we go... Now once upon a time not long ago There was a little rapper about to blow But his album
Three] Aiyyo, its totally, up to the team, to me So don't, make a move if you don't ask me I'm, casually known, halfly blown In Miami, cause now Uncle
off I used the word 'off' seven times in a rhyme You dumb enough to think I got a limited mind But before you start tweaking, critiquing, pressing rewind Einstein understand that your third
on your ardvark Don't let me see a bigot coming through clark park Cut his neck with my good blade Thirty-four years old, still in the third grade Yes
on your ardvark Don't let me see a bigot coming through Clark Park Cut his neck with my good blade Thirty four years old, still in the third grade Yet
suffer frost bite Isle of the King maniac barbarian, sort of Romanian Underground, subterranean, Five Stepper grandson of Nefar The rest of y'all heffers, thimble y'all resembled Uncle
've been through would make you cry so (Pray for me, pray for me) I'm trying to change my life so (Pray for me) Young dude full of soul food, mama cooking pork chops Uncle
to be a man he shows me how to pull a scam in the name of from my mind so that i don't grow up blind i am uncle sam i like edwin meese the third he