Lyrics:
don't be
Give yourself prudence and love your friends
La France, rejoice your truth!
I I n the religion of the insecure
I must be myself
Respect my youth
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The following content is rated PG 21 VL
Vylenz
Enjoy
Huhahahaha
Yeah
I'm in a foul mood
Somebody gon' get beat up
Somebody gon' get beat up
break a myth
We all running out of time
Until my number’s called keep a gunner by my side
All these different religions
And all these different decisions
Cuz I love myself too much to love you
Sorry to say I've had enough of you
Feel so bad cuz I don't wanna hurt you
But it won't work now now I'm starting
it as a sign on how
Im living my life
Who can I trust
I put my faith in the lord
My soul is protected by
The shield and the sword
This right here my
won't work
(Woman: Somebody ring the alarm) I'm freakin
Liftin skirts on bad broads on E! like Brooke Burke, nigga
Like Brook Burke, nigga, like Brooke
based upon freedom of speech
Freedom of press, freedom of your own religion
To make your own decision, now that's baloney
Cause if I gotta play by your
religion all in my soul.
Well she's a bad machine my number one.
ch ah yeah, I got a new religion all in my soul.
I call her momma moon and I'm her sun.
based upon freedom of speech
Freedom of press, freedom of your own religion
To make your own decision, now that's baloney
Cause if I gotta play by your
Yeah, uhhh
D. Steele on 'em, yeah
D. Steele on 'em, yeah
You see, it's bad enough that God's people are divided by man because of race
They're trying
Thought I heard somebody say they was a bread winner
Thought I heard somebody say they was a bread winner
Thought I heard somebody say they wanna
know if you gon' make it
Overdosed so bad on the blue pill in the matrix
That's the way niggas livin'
Worship false gods wearin' old true religions
laughing at my
Bad party trick
I'll make it quick
Are my intentions obvious?
Bad party trick
You're over it
There's something here you won't admit
Bad party
the Ministry of 1966
We're looking for somebody
To give us back our kicks
We want someone to sing again
Just like they did before
Strumming on acoustic guitar
up! Black zombies in a spell for more than fo'hundred years
Ghetto niggas won't have it no mo', can I get a witness?
Why listen to somebody else tell
a young single parent out struggling, they think you a fool
Give your kids bad grades and put 'em in dumber classes
Killing shorty future, I wonder how do
to get that bitch off my screen
She don't wanna fuck Alex Sheehan
Nah, she wanna get fucked by Eskimo Supreme
Somebody tell these young fellas
Stop
to our Mom
Unless she humiliated you, by your lack of success
Humiliated you, on every phone call
That's why I didn't call her but every two weeks
Yet you
And won't live and forgive.
Until then ill sit back and ill laugh
But feel bad
Cuz I know you screwed up
But you did it to yourself.
(Whoo!)
(Haha)
Like
again
My hood is the ghetto
Black magic in the hood, it's tragic but understood
Crack addicts, crack windows, crack wood
Even what's bad becomes
Ya know
They often ask me where I been
I said uh
I been working on the album
They like fasho I be like hell yeah
Ok uh let's go gdrrr
Bad Religion
what's bad becomes good, status becomes stood
Upon the pedestal welcome to the ghetto show
Federal buildings, pissy hallways filled with children pushing
We have time for racism
We have time for criticism
Held bondage by our ism's
When will there be a time to love?
We make time to debate religion
I cry
Somebody who gon stay with me For life
Need somebody who gon stay when things get bad
Somebody who won’t judge me off they past
Somebody
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