I can remember, parking lot nights What did they mean to you? Wrapping my arms around your body Protecting and holding you And holding you Looking inside
I can remember, parking lot nights What did they mean to you? Wrapping my arms around your body Protecting and holding you And holding you Looking
翻訳: 日曜日を取り戻す. 11.
: I can remember, parking lot nights What did they mean to you? Wrapping my arms around your body Protecting and holding you And holding you Looking
back, violently take a nap Promise you got something, Lord, that I honor you Blow your lil' head off while you're tying your shoe But back in the kitchen
make this flight shit It was a Wesley Snipes movement on a Sunday in Bermuda We laptop niggas, thugs in a computer A Wesley Snipes movement on a Sunday
it's gon' be okay Baby it's gon' be okay now Baby it's gon' be okay Baby it's gon' be okay now You left behind a mother, eleven kids, eleven grandkids
eleven (40) High steppin' Ya blankin off the blanks 'cause I'm a ???ock star??§ate goin dove rock Nigga let me use your fuckin car All the way to sunday
winter sunshine down to Cullerne Gardens and everybody's feeling fine This wonderful place as smooth as a dream where eleven strangers become a team where eleven
my shoes I'm picking up my homie from the what, Northside We rollin in the 'burban on them killa 22's Hit the Southside, and pick up 2 twins You can take
my strap Broads is watchin me they wanna leech to my trap Tha Jesus Christ on my neck reach to my lap I teach you to rap in my Sunday School These bitches
stylish jack leave ur ass for dead cause you be fuckin faggots BITCH picture this superbowl sunday, niggas shoottin craps in the kitchen (seven eleven, seven eleven
[Hook:] You look like a bitch gotcha face all bent up I like a pimp got my gators and my pimp You take orders and run errands I take vactions with
the nigga that keep his picture on your girlfriend's dresser Now really Tell me what you muthafuckas know about gettin' ROWDY Tell your whole Sunday gang
French fries Icy Coke, milkshake, sundaies and apple pies And a cup? Nah, that's enough of that I'm like an Indian giver, yo, give me that back Comin
good thing, and if I could only hear you sing Once more, oh lord, the comfort it would bring [chorus] [dmx] You left behind a mother (and) eleven kids (and) eleven
