(The rhythm, the rhythm, the rhythm, the rhythm). . The rhythm of legs moving in the sun. The rhythm of an engine deep and throating. The rhythm of a summer that you walked in. . The sound of a
F/ bilal, mc lyte. . common talking. Yea, yea, yea. You know, they call me a pimp, and you know what that mean. I'm a person that's making profit. See I pimp internationally. I'm nationally rec
0 00. . Phyllis I used to watch him eat, and while he was eating I would talk to him, and while he was eating I would ask him what he was doing, and all he would say was, "I'm using the chicken to m