Laulunsanoja:
The Years Gone By The Real Thing

The phone rings, it's your voice. You said how, there's no choice. your too cool, and i tour too much how could this work, don't keep in touch. with every

The phone rings, it's your voice. You said how, there's no choice. your too cool, and i tour too much how could this work, don't keep in touch. with

to never look back or I turn to salt Had nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches and rings Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things Can'

knot in my pocket weighin' at least a grand Gold on my neck my pistols close at hand I'm a self-made monster of the city streets Remotely controlled by

and break me S'cuse me While I tend to how I feel These things return to me That still seem real Now deservingly This easy chair But the rocking stopped By

To whom it may concern, You might sell a million more than me, But you don't got a million more than me, Let's be real. Ahahaha Let's do this thing

thugs gone and wanna see the thugs gone It don't stop while my thug music plays on It won't stop, they wanna see the thugs gone They wanna see the thugs gone

corpse for real Y'all niggaz thinkin' what y'all readin' in The Source is real What my life like, you lookin' at the source, it's real What your life

left my pop Then we moved to the south side of Yonkers, New York Then my mom remarried, had my little brother Gary My sister a year later, let me gather my thoughts By