Clutch her jeans while she kicks, osama asked for my tricks.
Heavenly father, martin, malcolm mixed with them lyrics
Dreamed away all these right dreams, nightmares squash like tight jeans
We gotta find peace and end the war in the streets
And skinny jeans ain't quite the lick
Word spreads fast that your knees spread quick
I’m gonna pop some tags, only got twenty dollars in my pocket
You bunch of homos so you on that girly skinny jeans, but i don't dig it
This is not somethin that i wrote for tha queens
Here, put in laimens terms, it's what you do with whats in you jeans.
This shit make a nigga wanna get some bread or bust a head
I have a pocket full of dreams, but not the jeans yet
Bumping me against the world, hello world, kendrick here
All my jeans have three pant legs for dealin with this ordeal
And i ain't frontin for her
M.e.k. jeans true religion sweater
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