Fordítás: Quimby. Amigos-Fekete Kösz Love.
I grew up in New York City Since I was born on Broadway, baby Moved downtown when I was just nineteen To start a new life on the New York scene There
They call me white Devil, black Jesus Heaven closes, Hell freezes Ego's trippin', scripts keep flippin' Bloods keep bloodin', Crips keep crippin' Time
Yeah, uh huh, you know what it is Black and yellow, black and yellow Black and yellow, black and yellow Yeah, uh huh, you know what it is Black and yellow
(Angie Martinez): It's funny 'cause, you know, we've been asking people what they wanted to know. I mean, clearly, you've been having this thing with
What's behind, Your black door? I wanna know, I wanna know, yeah, May take a week, honey, It may take more, I wanna know, I wanna know, Ooh~ooh~ooh~ooh
[Wiz Khalifa] yea uh huh, you know what it is black and yellow [x4] yea uh huh, you know what it is black and yellow [x4] [Chorus] yeah, uh huh, you
Verse 1 Eeeh eeeh eehh eehh Yuppp! Who knew we would be where we are here today Yeah Who knew that your heart had the cost I would pay Girl Ain't gone
Hear footsteps creak the floor The shadows give away Someone outside the door Won't let 'em in Life damaged, gears to grind A run down broke machine
Hey hey Hey hey Let the rain come down on me Hey hey Hey hey I see people and they're craving blood And I'm so rarely understood Well I don't know what
Get another boyfriend Backstreet Check it Hey hey hey, yeah Let's talk about one baby You gotta hear me out Think you really wanna be the last to know
(Gene Simmons, Frank Zappa) Frank: "Alright kids, here's a real rock 'n roll song" [Verse] Frank says... If everyone says your hair's too long Or else
Now we demand a chance to do things for ourselves We're tired of beatin' our head against the wall And workin' for someone else We're people, we're just
I don't wanna feel no more It's easier to keep falling Imitations are pale Emptiness all Tomorrow's haunted by your ghost Lay down, black gives way
When the last rose of summer pricks my finger And the hot sun chills me to the bone When I can't hear the song for the singer And I can't tell my pillow
All of my friends come to see me last night I was laying in my bed and dying Annie Bonneau from St. Angel Say the weather down here so fine Just then
Bringing me down, I'm running aground Blind in the light of the interstate cars Passing me by, the buses and semis Plunging like stones from a slingshot