years back would be okay I just need to unwind In my time machine By myself I don't need anybody else I just need to unwind In my time machine In my time machine
few years back would be ok I just need to unwind In my time machine By Myself I don't need anybody else I just need to unwind In my time machine In my time machine
Oversettelse: The Click Five. Time Machine.
mine I spent too much time Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk Never fetchin' for crime, halt, who goes there? Yo, it's the squeeze of five
and no cops Better have your glock out and cocked, about to pop To hustlers like Flynt, sellin' cracks like Sprint A dime a minute, now roll the dice, five
shoot and I'm a marksmen too And you're the target Oops! And everything gets better in time and time is forever And muthafucka it's my time and I'm better
Going out nigga Big guns and sharp knifes Revolvers 'cause automatics jam at the wrong time (I'm going out) Like fights with the brass knuckles Swinging
, stop ya hoes From playin' wit' me, my nine stayin' wit' me Niggas in banged up cars wit' battle scars With shit bags attached to they drawers take this time
more when I was on tour Told her you should write a lot Now look how much time you got Told you, shouldn't run a lot Now look how much time you got
in the click Watch Ugodz-Illa set fire to this shit [U-God] As the music gets louder at the top of the hour It's time to devour, cuz I'm hungry for power
yo (yes) yo yo Aiyyo Kweli I heard there's a function goin on at the D&D Some things that I gotta see, heard that the Rawkus click Was doin some ill
Calico, stop ya hoes From playin wit me, my nine stayin wit me Niggas in banged up cars wit battle scars With shit bags attached to they drawers Take this time
Yoc [??] pretains So I maintain on the names And everything has gone strange But I'm still up in this shit Even though my gang's diminished To a five member click
crowd You know the click you hear the speakers, and cars banging loud You know the click that represent, and have H-Town proud You know the click that
I hate your blog. It's incredibly terrible and bad. I hate your blog. You own a dog, and you feed it. You post about it. I get to read it. Plus: five
Going out nigga Big guns and sharp knifes Revolvers 'cause automatics jam at the wrong time(I'm going out) Like fights with the brass knuckles Swinging
