Vertaling: Nege dae. Al my redes.
know, I did not know The more I find that all my reasons are all my answers I keep waiting The more I find that all my reasons are all my answers I keep
all about the music. It's all about the music... All about, all about the music... (Bone, Bone, Bone Thug...) Everyday, everday... It's all about the
'm stacked and ripping shit Taking off my shirt and breaking them sweats Tattoos all over my body seven on the stomach Skull on my chest, nine millimeter in my
be the ones settin' the traps You listen to y'all shit, then listen to our shit Ain't nuttin' y'all faggots could do but gossip That's the reason now y'all
slaves So catch a phase of the craze Noddin' heads for days He's acting stingy with the level And he spreads in many ways So if you want to test the effervesce Come along and be my
Meet my lady every morning half past nine When the bells begin to ring Looking out the window down the road And I see the same damn thing Three days
Wonderful my days, all things comin' down Run up on the new sound, leavin' cracks in the ground What's goin on my man? God damn and now my brain is hurtin
with it you don't, that's tough (If) And you know the real reason is you're (All wrapped up) All wrapped up All wrapped up All wrapped up All wrapped
Feelin my highs and my lows In my soul, and my goals Just to stop smoking and stop drinkin But I been thinkin I got my reasons Just to get (by), just
my cousin, he was a buck too Y'all don't like how I'm living, well, fuck you I been a G since a little kid Sticking my head up into somebody's dollar
It all seemed so idiotic, all the accusations of unpatriotic The fall we'll always remember, capitulating silence Election November before the winter
a hand that'll rock ya cradle Cream you like cheese, spread you on my bagle My Ford Explorer boomin' with the clumped-up funk All you jealous punks can't stop my
an' two different labels Niggas that pay me homage Been in this game for nine seasons That's nine reasons why I'm expired the rhyme beefin' Y'all niggas
happy I'm out so I can send him commissary As I reach my territory, I jump off my low rider Yeah, that's my bike but you don't tell nobody Soon as I
Now for some typical reason I'm rollin' up some hoes and pattin' my back seat, hah My pimpin' lyrical tactics Is like a dirty kid flippin' on a mattress
took Nine Eleven just to convince us That we got wars goin' on And it's way bigger than thugs, this deeper than drugs Suicide bombings, and air attacks All the planes that were hijacked, and all
