/61 other personnel, unk. Transcriber: Awcantor@aol.com I like to see my baby, strollin' down the avenue-hoo I like to see my baby, strollin' down the
Vertaling: Little Willie John en Hank Ballard. I Like To My Baby Zie.
carry a baby Babies havin' babies Rappers like me always disrespectin' ladies Wonder why it's like that, well so do I But I just turn my back and then
all alone High as hell, my mind is gone I'm thinkin bout some brand-new shit and I'm broke I know I be a fiend if I smoke that coke But if I go back to
' so devilish, shit I remember I was just like you Smokin' blunts with my crew, flippin' over 62's 'Cause G E D, wasn't B I G I got P A I D, that's why
So I say [Chorus (sample)] Peace God I'm gone, I'm gone, I'm on my way Peace God I'm gone, I'm gone, I'm on my way Peace God (peace God!) I'm gone, I
, now hold up, now hold up Now I walked on ice and never fell I spent my time in a plush hotel John John Phenomenon, deadly but calm Word to my born,
chill He ain't the only one with chinky eyes Yo, I'm related to him And I'll put eight through him When I skate though him And my co-d I don't think you
I awoke him, the beamer, I drove it It was the beam that I showed him, that I keep by my scrotum I seen him, I sowed him, I leaned him, I told him The
Yall Doin? Yeh, my names Colt Ford, I jus came here to do a little song for yall, bout where I come from, the way I see it, I brought my buddy, Mr. John
Doin? Yeh, my names Colt Ford, I jus came here to do a little song for yall, bout where I come from, the way I see it, I brought my buddy, Mr. John Michael
my head. Nicky: I know put my earmuffs on the cookie. Rod: But I never thought the things in my head Could really happen in my bed. Nicky: You look like
I'm tryna give us us free like Sinke I can't stop, that's why I'm hot Determination, dedication, motivation I'm talking to you of my many inspirations When I say, I
streets of the city I know it's shitty, but I can do without the pity Baby, never lived in the ghetto or the projects But I wear my Tim boots and Hi-
I'm the sultan of the ghetto, the homicidal aficionado I empty niggas out like Cristal bottles, uh When I battle, I'm breaking Bentleys down to gravel I
we will in due time I bust enough shots to kill him two times, I do crimes I get caught then my mind's defending my son's rhymes 'Cause my thoughts stay
red wine, white will get out the stain Forget the mess, baby, when will I see you again Please pick me up while I'm playing this part That's why I try
track I set it off wit my own rhyme 'cause I'm as ill as a convict who kills for phone time I'm max like cassettes, I flex like sex In your stereo sets
