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Your father and my father “they” are bound by tradition...we are not bound by those traditions... Hymn Naswaáree: What does that mean? Logically
Elaine Paige But without the fuckin' tunes an' Joe Cocker bollocks East miserable Mainline Where the air con won't be saved by Nicolas Cage Put some
spiritually subscribed I was just a jiveturkey Now I'm healed by his stripes Blessed and made in His image And this grace is a privilege Yeah my soul roll long
tucked My focus on Self Destruct PSPB, DORS The coldest bar Smith So the legend goes FOCUSed through a plethora of foes Shit show Twenty four hour long
a talker And I do not have any wheels But I am a walker You did it first But I put the soul in the bitch Like Joe Cocker She gone get by With some help from
inside of Sam's club I done did dirt and went to church to get my hands scrubbed Swear I've been baptized each three or four times But in the land where
Sleep with my eyes at post So diablo won't be hostin the game of life The knife sits by throats of the young And blows death straight through the lungs
under a spacebeam spasm like Joe Cocker The feeble-mind shocker In ultraviolet hours, searching for blue flowerspsychedelic relics my power Aesthetic
eclectic Mercenary of Astral Clocktowers, I’m watching Those who watch the watchmen, bury guards in vinyl Press my ashes in hymns, from now till infinity,
B Joe been crack way before my philosophy Banned from TV, BET won't play me Still we do it B.I.G. it's all gravy It's our reality, you call it
in my hands Mouth on that drill ish I be on that wired insane Ultimate trill shit And there is not a soul that can see me Like I'm not real trick
There's a hymn that we sing at times in church That is called "It Is Well With My Soul" It was written by a man named Horatio Spafford A man who knew
Cross my fingers for heaven and a Burn a chalice with brethren Three-six-five, twenty-four-seven Hold cigars like 7-11 Jars of that seven-four
number four Somewhere out west I still live in this old house Where we were raised On this red dirt road The county never paved Now I watch my
After filling my reputation of whore beaters Soared to Taco Bell and I ordered some gorditas (Mmm, that's good!) Wanted four more, ordered 'em,
homeplace where I grew up of the days both good and bad My overalls were hand-me-downs my shoes they were full of holes I used to walk four miles to school
You can call this one my Hurrian Hymn Im one of the first of them to sounddifferent Why they worried about drip and they aint got closets let alone
the way that I touched her soul And its evident, that I'm far from the best and shit But i know that I'm killing it And I'm up in my element, feeling like
today, he'll beat it, Joe Frazier My Guccis, I went all-blue, Nipsey feet (feet) You see diamonds on my neck, that's Water by G (G) She went brazy
homeplace where I grew up and of the days both good and bad My overalls were hand-me-downs, my shoes were full of holes I used to walk four miles
homeplace where I grew up and of the days both good and bad My overalls were hand-me-downs, my shoes were full of holes I used to walk four miles
where I grew up of the days both good and bad My overalls were hand-me-downs shoes full of holes I used to walk four miles to school every day through
Stars aligning, think my chakras in Zion 4th dimension matrix, mixing poetry in space and time Continuum, shifting Buddha in spatial knowledge
store Sold my soul, achieved all my goals And I'm surrounded by propofol Sycophants, security, my agent and rat hoes Telling me my shits lit when my
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