* send corrections to the typist. . Hey yo, I'm tired of runnin these streets, yo. I'm tired of hustlin. Y'all motherfuckers think this is all a game.
* send corrections to the typist. . Hey yo, I'm tired of runnin these streets, yo. I'm tired of hustlin. Y'all motherfuckers think this is all a game.
Child Of Mine. by Gerry Goffin & Carole King. . Although you see the world different than me,. sometimes I can touch upon the wonders that you see.. And all the new colors and pictures you've designed,.
Long ago we had our dreams. And that was all that we needed. Then all at once we got to see. The cycles we repeated. . Baby can't you be real. I said Baby can't you be real?.
(Chilly, chilly, wah-wah-wah-wah). (Chilly, chilly, wah-wah-wah-wah). Chills, runnin' up and down my spine. Well I get them every time. That I feel your lips on mine.
Chilly, chilly, wah, wah, wah, wah. Chilly, chilly, wah, wah, wah, wah. . Chills, runnin' up and down my spine. Well, I get them every time. That I feel your lips on mine.