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Search results for 'all in his hands by florida mass choir' Page #4
Yee yee! We've found 687 lyrics and 193 artists matching all in his hands by florida mass choir.
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on his back As a place kicker, punter and a running back Put the ball in his hands and he'd run it back An All American college football champ He was
to the murder of Dr david Gunn Who was killed in Florida By pro-life activists While I was living there that was The ultimate hypocrisy I Witnessed growing up:
feeling like you think we’re soft. Look, this is a ghetto prayer, for all my friends who ain’t make it there, look. He’s in his home, thinking ‘bout his
feeling like you think we’re soft. Look, this is a ghetto prayer, for all my friends who ain’t make it there, look. He’s in his home, thinking ‘bout his
I guess we all know it Hand in hand we stand while we watch you flow Heaven can you help us, where we can't go Covered by roses When this
And in the depth be praise: In all His words most wonderful: Most sure in all His ways! To us His elder race He gave To battle and to win, Without
his life on the line as an ironworker and witnessing death in a joint effort to build bridges, skyscrapers and infrastructure in cities, towns and all
or an alcoholic Christmas lights cause vicious fights Reindeer bites in auspicious nights Bloody prisoner read his final rites Forgiveness there's no dice
or an alcoholic Christmas lights cause vicious fights Reindeer bites in auspicious nights Bloody prisoner read his final rites Forgiveness there's no dice
a country Who doesn't think his life matters And yes It's 2019 A new year, fresh start But tell that to D'angelo Brown Who was just shot In the head By
Is So Strong And I Still Exist Life Is Not Being Easy On Me But Thanks To All My Fans I Will Always Be [Jason & Main Choir] Playing In Their
His voice in the sky is the sound that you hear. His timbre is dim and his motives aren't clear. Why does the prophet above have so much to fear?
lovin' the broads, there's nothin' to applaud But fuck it it's all good, the hood is up in The Source It's fight music I'm a nigga that loves scuffles
the raw in the trash can Got smoked by a cop on the dash cam Mug shot on the news, he a mad man When all he did was hustle to run the cash in He feedin'
I've found my way out from the graveyard Decorated it with entrails splattered all about Victim s found to be deformed By the flesh craving skeleton
children freebasin' in their million Dollar basements Babies having babies in the hood I grew up in Hands are too small for the guns that they be bustin'
could have been dead sleeping in the grave But He came and saved and made me whole So with my whole heart I'll praise His name For all the great things
probably took many souls I got the game in my hand, I got it in my control Bitch I been counting up bands, still got a lot more to go Know I made it far I
and through his Ballin' Not to diss I been in love with his shit Ever since my friends had showed me The Incredible True Story (Uh) Like a broken record I've
die Ain't tryna hear no talking, Tell them niggas come and slide Rest in peace to that nigga, Blowing kisses to the sky Put your hands up, your mask
any mortal thing his hands stretch to infinity All encompassing the flock there's no life in here any more Deeper than hades he brings to his side
All Gods creatures got a place in the choir Some sing low and some sing high Or some sing out loud on the telephone wire Some just clap their hands
about my way But his way, 1 way, sweet like cheesecake In my own zone on the highway Y'all breaking down by the mile, aye Cars pullin in for High Way It's
hold in the 1950’s when we were already entranced by baseball, bikinis and the boob tube. We invented manned flight, atom bombs, and duct tape before we
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