Lyrics:
soul, man
Gift from a mother and father, twixt the son and the daughter
Fixed by cells that are martyred (martyred)
Riding fluorescent coat tails out
shot and I got, to find a murderer
With a double-edge pump and a church killer
Don't worship and the cops got bored
Fillin for baby boy, showin up for
torch!! What
You stood for we stand for!! Patrick Day “All Day” Lets
Go!!
His story glorious victorious
We could look at his death as morbid
by the river (ask around)
I got fishing poles on side of fishes
You gotta feel us
We the real goons, it's a difference
Took his soul away
Threw
NOTHING MATTERS
WRITTEN BY: LARRY KING, JOIE SCOTT
KEYS JOHN BLASUCCI
PIANO LARRY KING
GUITARS MICHAEL THOMPSON
DRUMS KHARI PARKER
BASS ALAN
that matters.
I belive in the rhythm I feel I don't know if it's a dream or real.
I don't ask for much these days, just want to sing my songs in my
disheveled room,
Ludwig Von Beethoven is slumped over his piano
And on the piano sits the just completed manuscript for his tenth symphony.
It is his
know my heart
it talks to me
The whiskey bottle’s empty
My mind won’t change
It´s like a seal
So come on and take it for real
Interlude:
I’m gonna
do when you are gone
Piano interlude
And if you find that I have fallen
Past the point of no return yeah yeah yeah yeah
And if I have to live
by
Destiny, someone said, "Sing us a song
There's a piano" and handed me a drink
The room was full of hope, a song would set them free
And I said
right, hand is on my left
Hot mama freeze, I like what I see
Is it asking too much for you to talk to me?
Hit the dance floor, share a spark with me
Oh,
the gurney and ya'll can speak on my soul
It's time to get on the road
And it don't matter where I go bet I can make it my home
See this that food for
Aye, For real for real I don't really care about the fame and shit
Like money cool and shit bro but, honestly I'm just trying to be legendary bro
from the 80's
You know
Windbreaker suits
Doing what we do
Trying to put you in the mood
Like a interlude
Dinner for two
Red wine
No coasters
By
disheveled room,
Ludwig Von Beethoven is slumped over his piano
And on the piano sits the just completed manuscript for his tenth symphony.
It is his
above
And have his life for us huh
I'll never let go
Let you have my soul
I'll follow wherever you go
I feel so comfortable with you
Still remember when
West to East, South to North, best, the beats
Rest is tef', the Chef defeats
Order this piece -- yo..
Niggaz who ain't real, they real when they call
disheveled room,
Ludwig Von Beethoven is slumped over his piano
And on the piano sits the just completed manuscript for his tenth symphony.
It is his
is four for a pound
Y'all need cream
That's equivalent to a sixteen
See, when I'm rappin' I'm trappin'
Wasn't really good, well, subtract
Then I'm
dancing to piano in SA
You could say I got some balls
In this Hip Hop ASay
From the bottom to the top
I'm Aiming to the top
My door is open
No need for me
screenplay no interlude
This is real life
If you don't look like me homie you don't know what this shit feels like
They don't give a nigga no real rights
They
think I'll ask my four walls how I'm doing
I ask my piano the same thing on a Wednesday
Am I releasing the same thing
Coming homebound
My soul so
supposed to be on promo
Neighbour called I ain't answer and I got bricks for the low low
Parrot popped a loco, crime scene gun smoke
Drive by to homicide
Hiraeth
Verse 1
I'm longing for home, my days have flown by
I've been alone, for all of my life
Maybe ill find, my own sunrise
All of my angels
Discuss these piano interlude by soul for real Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In