We're here to help. Catching canaries is all part of the job. Those of you who are way ahead of me could say something about a bird in the hand being worth two in the bathroom or something. She's grateful, of course. Very grateful, and invites me to stay for tea and a bit of cake. What would you do?
Never got along with many heads Never got along with feds Couldn't sleep in girls' beds Had to fled After I fuck and after I bust I had to duck, get the night bus home Now I'm getting a bus home Stumbling home Wandering home through Holloway Road She wants me to do...
What would you do?
Man I got too much respect for you, baby girl We don't have to do that right now I mean it'll be fun, but when the sun comes up Man I think to myself, "What have I done?" I'm like fuck, I got a little bit of luck A lot of girls I link, man they have to get
He had the same batch since his feet were bound in kickers Creating unknown brothers, and unknown sisters Locked in blood, gunk, fluids and mixtures Of sweat, grease chicken, beef and love leaking stitches Learning his citizenship he paints naked pictures Earned to give her a tip She waits on him but he's drifted She took his eye and now his brain's gifted A relaxed marriage on an island in the South Pacific
Closure all over when thoughts got explicit He turned off the paper cause he read a seedy snippet Perverse scum, their tongues stung and twisted Remain in fine light but they're devils, and they're not with it For us, they ain't with it Uncovering these tales are horrific Some men are dogs to be specific Some men are dogs to be specific Some men are dogs to be specific
Some men are dogs to be specific Some men are dogs to be specific Some fucking men are dogs to be specificTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
