bad as Leroy Brown Brown Yo I'm a pro pro but not a noun noun If you got beef beef then you'll get ground ground Cut up in soul soul by the pound pound
caution Gimme a pound, thank you man Gimme a pound Gimme a pound, thank you man Gimme a pound Gimme a pound, thank you man Gimme a pound Gimme a pound
bad, as Leroy Brown Brown Yo I'm a pro pro, but not a noun noun If you got beef beef, then you'll get ground ground Cut up in soul soul, by the pound pound
Traducció: Common. Ànima per la lliura.
, as Leroy Brown Brown Yo I'm a pro pro, but not a noun noun If you got beef beef, then you'll get ground ground Cut up in soul soul, by the pound pound
inside the souls of those who were so lonely. I was down beneath the bottom, when my vacant staring caught them gaily parading up and down the street-followed by
your body to me I said you're wack, you're wack, showin your body to me You got no Soul man, and you need to get a Pound Cause you, ain't, ah-really
marks wanna test me because I test the mics I check 'em like sound, and like loose I'm down Plus I done got better since Soul By the Pound, I maintain
on this corner I still wanna see California But this is my world [Chorus Repeated Overlapping:] "It's your world" [Common] Yeah [Verse 2] Life and death law around us Four pounds and pounds
The more i hate I hate myself I sit still but I turn On myself I kill my soul piece by piece I feel myself slipping Common sense fails me Existence
would there be My 3 Mase pos and me And that's the magic number Focus is formed by flaunts to the soul Souls who flaunt styles gain praises by pounds Common
1 0 1 The hardest 9 to 5 you will ever have You can?t learn this shit in no history book You ready to rap motherfucker? You ready to sell your soul,
goes down in my click the dogs they all simmer At the same time , ninety-six to the hard top brandy wine Gettin' mine in a big fashion A eleven pounds
like sound, and like loose I'm down Plus I done got better since soul by the pound, I maintain Maintain the rock I get the party live, Common Sense
your body to me I said you're wack, you're wack, showin your body to me You got no soul man, and you need to get a pound Cause you, ain't, ah-really
in tug of war, writin' rhymes by the score Before I lived the hustle, swore this poor man would give the law As a testament it goes, it was destined in my soul
try to take em away from me ill leave yo body so swole, what im holding is big enough to blow a hole in yo soul, so take yo gin and hypnotic and have a seat by
in tug-of-war, writin rhymes by the score Before I lived the hustle, swore this poor man would give the law As a testament it goes, it was destined in my soul
