the wrong business I swear I ain't lyin' I stay hungry, broke all the time I'm gonna send my guitar home Leave these blues alone I'm in the wrong business I
Översättning: BB King. Jag är i fel bransch.
I'm in the wrong business I swear I ain't lyin' I stay hungry, broke all the time I'm gonna send my guitar home Leave these blues alone I'm in the wrong
I'm like Noah, I'm takin' 'em, two by two I took, them and them and I'll take, you and you Be I'm right or be I'm wrong, you'll see I'm tight with this
I'm not doing her wrong Before she leaves me Sad and all alone So when the clock hits five I'll be gone There's a matter That I'm gonna settle later
was dark I had the fame, but my name was missin' the art So I'm drawin' the line, and I'm crossin' the Ts And I'm dottin' my I's, barely catchin' my Z
] Arm & Hammer boxes, we love foxes, leaning in the Tropics Blood money, boats is abnoxious Standing in the mess hall when, nose froze Posing like a king, I'm
right plan but you had the wrong mans Tryin to build a clique like the hypnotize camp I'm knowin' it wouldn't work so I just sit back And watch how the
I'm dyin' You see I'm not marked for death, so stop the blood clot cryin' This ain't The Wizard of Oz where I can tap my heels and go for it I take it
out there, I feel some But doubt they're capable to take it where you took it to I missed your wake not 'cause I'm fake 'Cause I hate to see somebody
' my future was dark I had the fame, but my name was missin' the art So I'm drawin' the line, and I'm crossin' the Ts And I'm dottin' my Is, barely catchin
{B.I.G. sample}] [1 - repeat all 2X] {Where da paper at?} I got to get it {Where da paper at?} You know I need it {Where da paper at?} I got to
out! We run New York" I don't care if you Mobb Deep, I hold triggers to crews You little fuck, I've got money stacks bigger than you When I was pushin
I come Or maybe it's these hoes that I done beats Or maybe it's your sister or your niece Or how I rock my bows with no crease Or how I'm just so throwed
I'm wit' Young Dose and YC Readell Road, that's my street Ask around on the Eastside I'm the s-h-i-t Bun B Bun B, I'm underground king In the candy
to be a promo man for a major record company, named bald-headed john... king of the plookers... Father riley b. jones: This is the story 'bout Bald-
