Search results for 'numbers by basshunter' Page #1,493

[Originally by Bouncing Souls]

I got a song stuck in my head
Walking down street number nine
I sing it out loud with my friends
And we're all having

even failed to have a woman given my number to call



Some say that life without a little sh*t is no life at all

Is no life at all



Even my pubic

a heart around a number on the paper in the case in a glove compartment-chaos by the seat loved out of place with a boy beside the window with an answer in

flight sitting right by the propeller 
new things sped up, but I still got my old setup 
talking money every time, tell them hoes shut up 
globe trotter,

You gotta stay fresh
You gotta stay fresh
By any means necessary
Every time you pull up
These niggas better pull out their phones
Take a picture

go?
Jennifer, where did
Jennifer, where did you go?

Grabbed my black umbrella
And went into the town to phone
I dialed the number
but there was nobody

Needlessly bleeding resources all dry
Turn a blind eye if it means a pay rise
"Oh what a shame it would be I would die"
If Number 10 Downing Street burned

monkeys
We stand surrounded by morphine junkies
From our screen they look nice and plucky
But  they're fucking roaches and it's starting  to bug me
Theyre

the word sushi blocked
Shouts to the lil homies selling some shit
Right in the motherfucking face of the pig
I'm in the salmon number twos
nigga took my

And the seasons
keep passing by,
driving you out of your mind
Easy game, began
so playfully in the breeze
If you chase me so, I'll run,
I'll go, I'll fly away,
I'll

clouds
Something about our heads blown up by fame
I regret to inform you, you stoking that flame
Our heads are clear, yo, we salary men
Loving this

Calculated play by play
Struck up what you'd
call small talk
Held your hand went for a walk
Got the number of your phone
Made a call but no one home
Going

more
I just hope that you can't stand me no more, yeah yeah yeah (yeah, ay)

When shit got rough man ain't nobody wanna stand by me
Now everybody

have it, you know I'ma tax it

The beat is by Isaac LaFlame
Bitch, I be fly like a plane
I hope that bitch ain't your main
She let my dawgs run

grind in stock
Aught sneaky by gusts
Ever since I came from Jamaica always gettin' cash
All I knew is pies and that match
Fam all stash, West end king

(The Atomix, The Atomix)
Ooh-aah, ha
Oh-aah-ha, oh, oh, oh
(The number you dialed is not in service)
Ayy, ayy, ayy

When I get home
She always

do it
Don't hate on me 'cause your bitch choosin'
I'ma say that we can do it
Don't hate on me 'cause your bitch choosin'

It's all by choice, not

Come on, come on
Can't you see that I've been waiting by the telephone
Slightly complicated, always overrated for me
What's wrong, what's wrong?

Do you still drive a silver Mustang
Does it still have Texas plates
If i called you, would you answer
Is your number still the same

When you

through, so you stressful
I got too many sites to try to keep up, talkin' several
I asked this boy, "How many numbers in a BIN?" He told me, "Seven"
Ad

wrong number dis
(No, ah Keisha phone man) 
(But anuh Keisha dis, ah Chris)
Oh, wah gwan, my G? Thing good? Y pree?

(You know me deh 'ya a hbun

Life lived with blinders on
Only looking out for number one
Radio skewed to his point of view
Of the good old days when the good ol' boys ruled

you really keep it real?
Box Chevy for the summer
New Bent for my mother
Good gas, low number
I shoot like the old school Thunder
Water on my like

try to paraphrase
I had to come off the carousel
Niggas is still on they high horse
Ain't gotta do nothing by force
Right handed nigga play high