you're only a kid at heart (I know you're only a kid at heart) I know you're only a kid at heart Started out as a bedtime story Turned into a fight
Oversættelse: Amerika. Kun A Kid At Heart.
know you're only a kid at heart (I know you're only a kid at heart) I know you're only a kid at heart Started out as a bedtime story Turned into
man King Tee, seem like he cant think Without a drink but he's a player, he's a player Got to admit it, TLA, you a goddamn player To Tone-Loc, boo, ya and the man Kid
Yo no lies When I was five I arrived in America Made it alive survived the hell of a trip kid I'm telling ya Sellin' the freedom town to put my feet on
they paint me As a monger of hate and Satan a scatter-brained atheist But that ain't the case See it's a matter of taste We as a people decide If Shady
terrorist act's will have you pigs squealin at last. Wayne County Jail full of noxious gas got three quarters of your senses massed, you're left with only
gifted and black, you got no rights Your only true right is a right to a fight And not a fair fight, I wake up wonderin' who died last night Everyone and everything is at
And this goes on until I'm old and gray There was a rich man, a poor man, a beggar, and a thief Now each had a different hustle to get food to eat The
see draws me, Though it's only in You that I can truly see that its a feast for the eyes- a low blow to purpose. And I'm a little kid at a three ring
draws me, Though it's only in You that I can truly see that its a feast for the eyes- a low blow to purpose. And I'm a little kid at a three ring circus
knick knack pattywack, give a dog a bone Im still down to sell crack got a fiends home God bless the child with a flawless flow Say gave a nigga the
hill and the year has just begun I see America lonely with its dick hard (Hello) Wrote this on the back of a greeting card From this bleeding heart rolling down a
this?" I'ma thug, a thug til heart be stop Til they pick me off the street nigga, murdered a shot My wars, my words, the only thing that I got And I
sweep, like a broom Full moons make me howl like a wolf outta breath Sold only new vocal cords I heard Genius on Gef So step back, to the lab at, high
a little trade For the team's become a real gold mine And the kid's sold off for the bottom line Oh why, oh why? Mr. America sweating on TV The winner
There's a kid out on my corner hear him strumming like a fool Shivering in his dungarees but still he's going to school His cheeks are made of peach fuzz
