Lyrics:
T.B. I've got the T.B. blues When it rained down sorrow It rained all over me When it rained down sorrow It rained all over me 'Cause my body
room, Lord is a fool's room And I can almost smell your T.B. sheets And I can almost smell your T.B. sheets On your sick bed I gotta go, I gotta go
The cool room, Lord is a fool's room. And I can almost smell your T.B. sheets And I can almost smell your T.B. sheets On your sick bed. I gotta go, I
The cool room, Lord is a fool's room. And I can almost smell your T.B. sheets And I can almost smell your T.B. sheets On your sick bed. I gotta go, I
couldn't even walk down the street Pretty women, lookin' at me From my head to my feet But ooh, T.B.'s is killin' me Now, an' I want my body buried
for you, Oh, Lord. The cool room, Lord, is a fool's room, The cool room, Lord, is a fool's room, And I can almost smell your T.B. sheets And I
Yes, I want my body buried Way down in Jackson, Tennessee Want my body buried now, people Way down in Jackson, Tennessee Don't you know, T.B. is
know-ooh, T.B. is killin' me. Don't you know, don't you know T.B. is killin' me. Say, I was on my bed of affliction. I didn't even have a friend aound.
People lookin' fresh In their lightning bones Had the T.B. Blues I couldn't find no phones Women driving down In their whipflash rides Had
T.B. BLUES (Jimmie Rodgers) « © '31 Peer International, BMI » My good gal's trying to make a fool out of me Lord my gal's trying to make a fool
T.B. BLUES (Jimmie Rodgers) « © '31 Peer International, BMI » My good gal's trying to make a fool out of me Lord my gal's trying to make a fool
And it feels magnificent It must be adrenaline Effin gon' kill this shit Tbh dog t.b. fucking h Let's be real dog you can't reciprocate The force is
that All y'all can get, man Long live the members, long live dee 2 times Free t.b. Yeah No, B-A-B-B shit, man, bad-ass bottom, boy Let's go back
on the rock where these thugs eat meat and they tryin to act righteous but they got T.B. Catch me in the day room on the big T.V. Channel B.E.T., be the G-O-D
reload with the same hand Trigger squeezin', it's Killa Season, I ain't Cam My life's a movie banned from TV If he the flu then fam, I'm T.B. May so gutta
Marking the spot for Bayocean Still only a notion Mocking the spot for Bayocean Still only an ocean T.B. Thomas Benton the elder Real estate developer
Wisl. Lyrics for this song coming soon Be Blessed Racci T.B.S
nigga I still I got it Big bills big balling I'm in the league My trigger finger banging till that shit get fatigue T.B.S we gone ball on out Fuck
Mac (yeah) You going to see me (hey) On the T.V.(T.V.) Maybe P.C. or you'll cop my C.D. (yeah) Maybe you'll see a show down in T.B. (yeah) Or maybe in
shoulders Remember having beef with them niggas from Desota Now I'm fucking hoes With T.b. down in Arizona Niggas think it's a game How dis shit done changed
magas szint Ne bassz ki magaddal és mindebből maradj ki Nagyok az égben, K.A.P. - T.B. Nézz fel és látod, ott a GRG cégnév Hatalmas léptékben
I got it baby, I got rotten luck I got it, I got it baby, I got shit luck Shit luck until I die I took the palsy when I was still young T.B. went
you niggas man And we doing this shit like Some shit y'all niggas can never do man Shot out Slink D Shot out T.B. Shot out big sleeze House of reps gang
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