Tekster:
Saving Jane Come Down To Me

And I love it all every line and every scar And I wish that I could make you see This is where you ought to be, come down to me Come down to me, yeah

to the game, the game been good to me, Still spittin' fire, you niggas wood to me, We on nigga, let let them hoes know, Young Money lay 'em down like

spinnin breakbeats back These were the last good days of the ghetto It wasn't all about bein jiggy, so save that rap for Jell-O Down on my knees in the

And anyone who ever played a part, whoa, And wouldn't turn around and hate it! Sweet Jane! Whoa-oh-oh! Sweet Jane! Sweet Jane. Sweet Jane. Sweet Jane. Sweet Jane

Good or bad present, past, no I never save a bitch Suck I dick, I need a down, bitch one that ain't too flossy One that's down to hold my work and bust

and break it And anyone who ever played a part, whoa And wouldn't turn around and hate it Sweet Jane! Whoa-oh-oh! Sweet Jane! Sweet Jane. Sweet Jane Sweet Jane. Sweet Jane

to sell it But your weak flows, make me the bomb relic Rap with Magnums like Tom Selleck Spray a pumpkin, they don't call me Jane Blaze for nuthin Now save

And anyone who ever played a part, whoa, And wouldn't turn around and hate it! Sweet Jane! Whoa-oh-oh! Sweet Jane! Sweet Jane. Sweet Jane. Sweet Jane. Sweet Jane

down to the sea; too much to think, the barometer pressuring me. Rolling down the weather for an Easter parade, reeling out the Maydays in the hope of being saved