Превод: Градът Drive. Светии.
could sneak underground Speak, but don't make a sound But I won't let her down Though you get me Like no one gets me All I need is a holiday From my vocation as a saint
The Pricing Know We Brought Cake To The Party, No Icing No Ice On Big Phantom No License Fuck If You're Feeling Me As Long As Your Wife Is No One In My City
bom We're gonna take this city tonight We're gonna shake this city till broad daylight We're gonna take this city tonight We're gonna shake this city
Crack the window, feel the wind blow Serenity tenfold God bless whoever invented sunglasses And while your at save the saints that work the fast food drive
, all the sirens scream I don't drive my car, insurance is too high I live here in the city, my home town is far away I work out with concrete, I don't drive
world Saint Chris and me We got the fuel Beat up pile V8 Ford The don't make em like this no more Takes my money yeah my whole time But when I'm driving
City Spillover, pops and picks Inner City Spillover, where the big time ticks Inner City Spillover, isle of dreams Inner City Spillover, workmen on the beam Inner City
pants hang low Dog Boy, Humble Gods got my back no doubt So to the city where you venture shows go out Shouts going out to the city where you venture Any city
hear, what {the fuck} I just said? B K the home of Biggie and Jay Where niggaz got Will Smith ships, get jiggy all day Bitches that boost in the city
Count of Tuscany A young eccentric man bred from royal blood Took me for a ride across the open countryside Get into my car, let's go for a drive Along
goes all wrong Now you're going, then you're gone Same old story, same old song One builds you up, one tears you down To some you're a saint and to others
, the grass done got green the other side of the fence So I hopped my ass over to see if I was convinced Fast paced city life, but country livin's a sinch
, we'll go walking by the river Through the mud and through the slime Are you so surprised, That I am here, full of cheer In this fair city, in the Winter
Agent Orange color blindness As he works from door to door The violence in the carpets The arrow of his wife (In a car jam) Drives the slum-bum dweller
t got no close potnahs, socially I cain't function From the pen he would scribe, on how to survive: "Don't be Microsoft, be Macintosh with a Hard Drive
you know) Gonna pick you up and take you to lunch or sum'hin Ill leave it up to you if imma touch or sum'hin Ya wanna cut or sum'hin Ya just let me know We ain't bout no game Now when I say we I mean the whole saint
