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Bob George [Live in Dortmund, 1988]
par
Prince
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Letra
New coat, huh? That's nice Did you buy it? Yeah, right You seeing that rich motherf**ker again You know who I'm talking about That slicked back paddy with all the gold in his mouth Don't try to play me for yesterday's fool I'll slap your ass into the middle of next week That's right baby, them's the rules I pay the rent in this raggedy motherf**ker And all you do is suck up food and heat Who bought you this diamond ring? What's his name? Bob? Bob, What's he do for a living? Manage rock stars? Who? Prince? Ain't that a b*t*h? That skinny motherf**ker with the high voice? Who do I look like baby? Don't you know I will kill you now? "You f**king around?" I've got a gun Think I don't? Then what's this? Oh you quiet now, huh? Bob, ain't that a b*t*h Lan lan, lan lan lan Oh sh*t! "Come out with your hands up!" f**k you coming to get me! sh*t Hello? Mr. George? This is Camille How come we can't have a party? How come we can't dance? Love?! I'm about no love! It ain't about no love it's about money! It's about the party! Hey excuse me, hold up somebody at my door Aw sh*t! Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name; Thy-thy-thy kingdom come
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