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Where do all the hippies meet?. South Street, South Street. Where the dancin' is elite. South Street, South Street. . Alive by side we're loose and neat,. When we're stompin' down the street
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Where do all the hippies meet?. South Street, South Street. Where the dancin' is elite. South Street, South Street. . Alive by side we're loose and neat,. When we're stompin' down the street
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Where do all the hippies meet?. South Street, South Street. Where the dancin' is elite. South Street, South Street. . Alive by side we're loose and neat,. When we're stompin' down the street
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Bài hát Street Player - Chicago. I'll never forget those aimless years. Street sounds swirling through my mind. Trouble was often in the air. So we fought to forget our despair. I'm a street player
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Where do all the hippies meet?. South Street, South Street. Where the dancin' is elite. South Street, South Street. . Alive by side we're loose and neat,. When we're stompin' down the street
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Where do all the hippies meet?. South Street, South Street. Where the dancin' is elite. South Street, South Street. . Alive by side we're loose and neat,. When we're stompin' down the street
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ever go back to? Hell, nah. I think, I'll stick to the lick that got me rich. Slangin' this dick, the life of a player An old off the street pimp's con game. An old off the street pimp's con game
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Way down south in Louisiana, up under the Delta heat, child. There's an old boy plays an electric guitar right off Rampart Street Sometimes a Go-Go girl come in with him, she be shakin' out a Mojo
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Way down south in Louisiana, up under the Delta heat, child. There's an old boy plays an electric guitar right off Rampart Street Sometimes a Go-Go girl come in with him, she be shakin' out a Mojo
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goes south. (Wearing baseball caps but they won't be backwards). Now it really don't matter what state you're in. One day the south's gonna rise again There's a Wall Street wonder boy sittin' up north
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, that's strictly out to win. So now I like to drink Brandy cos we're best friends. * your player style to this bomb ass beat. On a Hundred-&-Fuckin Loony cos that's my street Chorus
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Chorus. Song, song of the south. Sweet potato pie and I shut my mouth. Gone, gone with the wind. There ain't nobody looking back again Cotton on the roadside, cotton in the ditch. We all picked
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Chorus. Song, song of the south. Sweet potato pie and I shut my mouth. Gone, gone with the wind. There ain't nobody looking back again Cotton on the roadside, cotton in the ditch. We all picked
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Ay Bass Player, some fine lookin' women out here today! Mmhmm. Oh, * Sir, what's in the cup? Uh, water or juice?
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