The beat, fleeting The beat, the joy The beat, fleeting The beat, joy The beat, the joy Terminate, tera-fied, smash it up, draw the line Fuck it up,
Real talk, true story No nuts, no glory Y'knowmsayin? Ay dawg, I'ma tell you like this Hey, I'm so raw and I'm so rich And you so flawed niggaz ain't
[Intro: T.I.] Real talk, true story (uh-huh) No nuts, no glory (uh-uh) Y'knowmsayin? (Real talk) Ay dawg (yeah yeah) I'ma tell you like this [Chorus:
Vertaling: Straat, George. Elke kans wat ek kry.
Vertaling: Die uitsondering. Lo Caten.
Vertaling: TI. Elke kans wat ek kry.
: Picture a fellow with his boots shined up A new coat of clean on his pick-up truck Ringin' your doorbell, thinkin' about love Hey honey that's me!
: [Intro: T.I.] Real talk, true story (uh-huh) No nuts, no glory (uh-uh) Y'knowmsayin? (Real talk) Ay dawg (yeah yeah) I'ma tell you like this [Chorus
Shotgun shack on the edge of town It's where I'll be when the sun goes down Big money, bird dog barkin' out back Wouldn't trade him in for a Cadillac
[feat. Craig Morgan] It seems like yesterday we were bringing you home I was so scared to hold you, now I'm scared to let go Know that growin' up was
[feat. Luke Bryan] Ain't enough hours in the day, It sure does feel like all work and no play Honey I know that the grass ain't mown, The car ain't
(feat. Tim McGraw) Oh oooo oh It aint rained in a month Mama done took a job part time at the five and dime Lord, times is hard, Daddy's pride is really
Picture a fellow with his boots shined up A new coat of clean on his pick-up truck Ringin' your doorbell, thinkin' about love Hey honey that's me! That
Por bule su primo, Langui, Gitano, La Dako Style... (x5) Salta a la vista, quiero decir que soy barriobajero mero, eh? no espero a puchar lo que quiero
Eyoo y la penita al compas (te cambio 3 cromos) Amos chacho, amos chacho, amos chacho y yo que no sabia que era el cache, amos chacho y yo que nunca
Hoy frescuni, no hacerse el flamencuni o luego acatarrao sube uno a la casuni, que hoy frescuni y hay poca maderuni ponersus el pijama debajo el pantaluni
Malos mengues les trajelen y el ojete se los pelen que estos jambos primo ni entienden ni guelen, ni distinguen, ni mastinguen, ni mojan tosti en el
