Search results for 'dance with no shoes by peter rowan' Page #34

in my dm
And she told me hey
With a smiley face
Watch us fade away
Will and grace
We can change the pace
Turn the page
But it remains the same
No shoes

Feelin' Freaky

B2K

Nick Cannon

2003

chicks by the deuce (uh huh) 
Ain't no telling what this man might do 
Cause tonight this man ain't playing by the rules 
So tell me,
Anybody feelin'

who gon' ride with me
We got them sights to see
It ain't no crime to dream, but I'm inclined to think
No need to run back, we gonna chase stacks
Been

murderas but walkin' with no guns
Come with me but don't run and die where your standin'
See I'm holdin' on this cannon and your life I'm demandin'
Put

wick cause they cannot shoot me
Peel back ya kufi, if you with prayer then pray to my 9
Fine by design, these niggas amuse me

Them niggas don't learn,

this bread left dough hands
But when that day come when that Rain come
With no shoes on we both dance
These questions I'm asking
Your heart missing in

not talking Meek
I put the Ricks on and I step out, wilding
Who finna stop me? When I pop out they hiding
Might flood the wrist out with a Cartier no

y'all up by your laces
I am not fronting
Now hang up your lace, sis

Bring me my bag, KopyCat
Bring me two
Run me my money
Then take off my shoes
No

If you think that a kiss is all in the lips 
 C'mon, you got it all wrong, man 
 And if you think that our dance was all in the hips 
 Oh well, then

just go for it, or it's no glory
Boy them lame a** stories gettin so boring
I can spot a pretender with no binoculars
You should know by now baby it

everything, yeah
With some good red wine and my brand new shoes
Gonna dance up a blue streak around my living room
Take a chance on love and try how it feels

niggas no fit tie bra Kevin Beats ein play shoes,  
 
And no I no dey diss,  
 
Ajust dey say truth,  
 
 
 Ripped cyphers with Looney and Kwasi Trigga,

the punchline
Chunked in with seven niggas solo, pussy won't fight me
cnd all you niggas can't fight back, you don't have hands like that
Dance like that, Jordan

band
Count out green, and my hands look like Peter Pan
Jump off my money, a nigga with Neverland
White girl, yeah, she basic, got checkered vans
Niggas

smaller but stronger and he’d caught me by surprise no lies
He fought with no honour and he had blood in his eyes
Then baldy steamed in and he booted me

dutiful and suitable she biting at her cuticle
Shit too easy dance to this track
Turn Chris Breezy went through the window
I’m good with the three piece

Passenger seat got the baddest bitch with me 

*Vroom*

Bottom shoe red but no they not trippy

got C's on her bag but you know she not

crippy

Success

I'm boutta act I mark a milli by the tracks an still no features what about that
An still the Cuban link at that now what you think
These bitches wack

burn
Dance with the flames
As we watch them burn
Watch them burn
Burn
Burn

Ran down the street
No shoes needed
I could handle the heat
I’d jump blindly
When I scale the tree
Never stop for a bloody knee
I knew where my mom hide

Yo, look
Look
First off
This ain't a song it's a message in music form
No uniform just a storm performed by yours truly
The newly unruly dude in

blissfully around a bonfire and
sacrifice life's sanity Pay a nickel for nose-bleed seats in a peanut gallery
Gallop with a Pegasus, malice with no benefits,

I'm leaving you the big picture of our one ballroom dance
The frame is held with pins and glue, it might have a chance
I'm leaving you lush gladiolas

say he is)

I got a lot yea
(I gotta, I gotta)

No matter the day it is
(No matter the day)

Walking around with my head on swivel that’s just the way