Search results for 'dirty hand by black lips' Page #29

Distant Wilderness

Goodie Mob

Still Standing

1998

creator, genocidal, tendencies
When they mention He, who listens to unseen hand
Slapping the faces of the young black man, when they sing
Knowin that we

Bitch Please

Death Grips

The Money Store

2012

Real shit for my people
And it just don't

Drop it like oh yeah
That's so trashy
How low can you go
How dirty can you get nasty fucker
Drug

funny the things we choose not to see
I've already won just because you said that
The fire was walked through by Shadrach, Abednego and Meshach
Sincerely

Everybody think you shy but I know you a freak
Lil' baby (yeah)

I been overseas goin' crazy (yeah)
I can tell you love it when we made up (ayy)
Black

Like my hands in the air
Fingers kiss the sky
Smile on my lips, and I don't know why
I think I'm in love, I think I'm in love
I think I'm in love

got a problem on your
Hands that you can't deal with bitch

Aye yo you ain't got nothing on me
They couldn't wait for me to
Diss you on a song
Cause you

like I ran through the strips put a gun in your mouth and expanded yo lips
Put my man on your chips take the band off your wrist my hand on your chick

Big black bitch I clapped
She wrote it on my clip
You tried it hundred times
Just to elevate my high
I can’t calm my business Ha
Can’t come close, my

beat
My nigga Lyo in studio says
Kill this beat
I said oh yeah boy consider it done
I'm about to give you black music
Hands high
Put your hands in

I'm fantasizing about them better days
But when I open up my eyes I see my vision blurred
I got a call with bad news on the other line
My hands dirty

talentless and crap
Little rappers: came from broken wrappers that their parents had
Yeah I'm getting handies, I can tell you're jealous: lend a hand
They

alone eating ice-cream
We got the right to breathe 
And live love true

Yeah I got too tired watching black men expire 
At the hands and knees

about me

Now I'm swerving through the hills in my burnt orange wraith 
Dirty Sprite in my hand and I'm getting baked
Off some laced weed from

And not caring about blacks
Flew New Orleans in a cop boy
Wouldn't pick us up like we was dirty as hell
If hell is dirty water then, well, I guess

Listen
Mortal I, mortal he, mortal us
Mortal
I'm just a black man
A man unfazed by the moonlight
Yet when faced with his own morality flinches

me in my dreams
Dark red hair and that black veil dress
"I'm under your spell"
"I just wanna taste your lips and the poison on your tongue"
"I'm love

not fail like Lehmann in Paris -
The trophy is there and ima get it by any means,
Even if it will take years to wash sins away
For that - I’ll say fuck

It's got you flying right by
I swear I'm feeling the sight
My eyes are teary despite
All the fragile souls I trapped
Inside the back of my mind
I promise

Fuck the Media

The Terrorists

Terror Strikes: Always Bizness, Never Personal

the things I write 

Until you spend a night in the South Park twilight 

I'm steadily trying to reach my black folks 

But all you want to see is a nigga

Caller, DTI, Top Producer, Pulse Eskimo
Fuckin' Widda Team
My two lips said "You don't wanna
See a nigga on the scene"
Go on then, what d’ya mean, what d’ya

Jean Desprez

Country Joe McDonald

War War War: Live

and despair, grim death on every hand;
Red fields of slaughter sloping down to ruin's black abyss;
The wolves of war ran evil-fanged, and little did they miss.

Sick-Man

Scraping Foetus off the Wheel

Hole

1984

and loose lips
Stab the dagger, turn it round
His life's an open book
Scribbled in his own blood

His constant companion is always at hand
Making

know her name her name
But she willin to play my game my game
Claim to fame how the bitch do the lap dance
Like it slapped on her ass wit a back hand

chill
Like liquor on your lips
When it's submerged in ice
Cause I was raised by the drink
So now the truth my vice
I need family
Family
I need family