Lyrics:
Every song I ever loved reminds me of you
Sometimes it feels like the words they say are telling our truth
I put my record on
And it sounds like our
a bon port
I t'he escrit cançons perquè guardis
Al costat del cor
No caure en l'oblit, mirar enrere
Salvar-ne el record
Massa lliure
Per estimar
Però a mi
paraules
I silencis que no callen
Ja, adéu
Els records que no s'escapen
Em foraden nits i tardes
Jo t'entenc
I potser sona molt cringy
Perquè vull
Looking at my record you’d think I’d be checkered
But if you look in my heart
I never saw the magic around me
I never saw the man on the moon
Then
somewhere
Tattoos are trashy
Tattoos are fun
I just hope that I’m the only one
That has a record, some flowers too
But I’ll be honest,
I’m full of white
rock and roll records I heard. I have a brother who's 10 years older, and I found some of his old records, some was 78s. The first thing I heard and also
LT El Único
Oye, jaja, tranquilo esto es
Full Records
Pa' pa' pa' frontiarle a cualquiera (this is the mother fucking remix)
Pa' pa' pa'
Even make a Jamaican man sing a happy song
And I don't know what it means
When they say go long, go long
But I own every record by "Cheech
machine
I still go to Taco Bell
Drive through, raw as Hell
I don't care, I'm still real
No matter how many records I sell
After the show or after
right cause
We in the spotlight
Still I hold the Glock with
The wrist twist like these
Gangsta shit no thanks to shit
Niggas selling a million records
record straight
All the needlenose punchin' is making me irate
Sick o' my bitchin' fallin' on deaf ears
Where you gonna be in the next five years?
the highway and don't care to say a word
In my head, it's kinda dreamy
I imagine it with you
I'm alone, record on, lookin' at the sky like '92, oh
And I
my Becky)
She got hips
Thighs supersized
Salt & Paper
That’s my Becky (That’s my Becky)
For the record
She about to get it
Salt & Pepper
That’s my
to
And get ya up out ya ways
As the record plays
Put on a little something from
Back in the days
We are party people
Dogg Pound Gangstas are party people
(ya
nos corps
Battons tous les records
Ce soir impossible que tu dormes
Laisse moi slide sur tes formes
Priser tes lèvres
On peut briser les règles ensemble
Where do you go when the radio's down?
Who are you now
When no one's around?
She losing, she losing herself
She not selling records, need help
work
from your job as a retail clerk
you're spending all the money you've saved
records keep the quiet away
up all night and sleep all day
he said it
I remember the time
When you fought for all the reasons
That you had stacked in the back of your head
Like your old record collection
Until it went
out retail
Watch it sell
J-J-J-Juicy
(I got a delay)
(Mothers, children on the street can't get enough to eat) Juicy
(Off the record issues
nothing keep score with me
Give me three hot seconds
I'll break Reebok records
on records
Make you sing, "The Lord is my shepherd!"
In the process I do away with all nonsense
Hit you with magic like my name was Pocahontas
The dread,
Play loud play fast and you'll never die young
I got my very first record
Was in an all black sleeve
I Took it home to the player
Turn it up till my
fingerprints
Chris Tucker, Laurence Tate, Dead Presidents
Dead white boys spread across the coffee table
Don't know maybe I'll start me up a record label
I can't walk
Iv's in my arm my wife Tomika at my legs
Ruthless I mean records we got married on my death bed
I can hear Jerry Heller in the hall
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