book of love is long and boring No one can lift the damn thing It's full of charts and facts and figures And instructions for dancing But I, I love
Oh you, You wrote the book on love (You wrote the book on love) Girl, I just can't get enough Of your love, I know You wrote the book on love Oh Brian
so alive, alive, alive [Drake] Yeah Yeah Yeah, ugh! What I tell 'em hoes, "Bow bow bow to me, drop down to ya knees," Young Money the Mafia that's where the love
a song for us (Mr. Piano Man) Play a song for love (Mr. Piano Man) Play a song for us (Mr. Piano Man) Play a song for love Do you have a request book
off the top, what's my sport, you think long You think wrong, you got it goin' on, baby doll But I won't sing you no love song, you either love me Or
or nine homes Girlies on my Jammie with Ice-T Jones Bank account boomin', fast lane zoomin' Known around the world for my high post groomin' Mac like a preacher, love
about my knowledge of hell $2.50 for a book, listen and look, now let's do some Math A gun and a hand, plus an angry man, minus love Equals and me,
song, everywhere It's the same song We gon' take you all around the world, same song Same song Same song All around the world Same, same, same song song song
Give love each day, give love each day Give love each day, give love each day Give love each day, give love each day Give love each day, give love each
love game is so tight And I'll give her whatever she needs And you can't match a love like mine It's like tryin' to rob me with a BB gun But my love
(Find) A guy that's gonna Change my life And I tell you one day Just wait and see (See) True love is waitin' Out there for me (Me) I'm like an open book
everything about it is a love song. Everything about it. Everything about it is a love song. Everything about it. Everything about it is a love song.
a song of love, of love Love yeah We'll write a song of love my baby Write a song of love We have a magic box We write a song of love We write, write
, way back in the day coming up Moms used to read to me everyday Through the evening even through the afternoon In the dawn, ah, book of songs So, I'
to flirt/ I'm from the dirt, root and soot/ Came up on my own foot/ Used to hang with the crooks, I keep a job on my books/ I took my chance with many
, worldwide Them wicked bad-ass thugs You punk niggas hate us But we don?t trip We still get madd ass love I show you the rapper that's sick of this song
with wifey Come out to play with the hard-headed, infamous song torture Crack your knuckles, buckle up your pants tight Pull your hats down, let's get it on like papi bar fights My spiral book
