Well, the crooks are out. And the streets are gray. You know I wouldn't have it. Any other way, yeah Your mother's words. They're, they're ringing still. But your mother. Don't pay our bills
(huh). Feelin' myself, I'm conceited (yeah). Feelin' myself, I'm conceited (huh). Feelin' myself, I'm conceited (Flo Milli *!). You never dated a chocolate bitch (pretty). You want a model bitch off
a man in the front row. Sent down by the mob with a gun. For 'Kid Gloves', 'Kid Gloves', I'm back out on the street. 'Kid Gloves', the master to the beat. 'Kid Gloves', I'll do anything but dive
