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Search results for 'eyes in the back of my head by patti labelle' Page #9
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storms in arizona I make my living on corners, by turning niggas into organ doners, fuck Diplomas Haven't you ever heard of a killa, we can go eye to eye
Everywhere that a you might be When I find you I'm a bringin' you home with me I want you out of my head And back in my bed Before the mornin' comes Well I
own business someone knocked on the door the teacher said who is it this girl walked in my imigination ran wild she stole my heart just by the way that
the Phantom of the Opera (They turn back up the slope Perhaps there is another Way in the gate to the lair descends As the rest of the lair appears) BEYOND
the eyes Shift the responsibility It was not you It was not you Falling back in fields of rape My children Falling back in fields of rape It could
funk on a Friday on my malware In the highway, takes MC's by the driveway Driveway Slow ill flow, so you know, head to toe Ill bend flows when I go From
which are behind me yeah And reaching forward to those things which are ahead I lift my eyes to the hill So I praise towards them on For the price
off, can't help but see Lack of concern, turn back on the movie Kangaroo Jack, what you can do in fact Stop Thinking the worst My mother said as she
on my own Uh, lotta years went by with my hands tied up in your ropes Forever and ever, no more The midnight sky is the road I'm takin' Head high up
fucked up--Its fucked up! Thoughts in my head Of people wanna kill me But you can't kill me 'cause if you kill me, I'll be back to kill you Done it
to move out, I guess I got no choice Rats in the front room, roaches in the back Junkies in the alley with a baseball bat I tried to get away but I
to move out, I guess I got no choice Rats in the front room, roaches in the back Junkies in the alley with a baseball bat I tried to get away but I
long black hair. And dark in the old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked Where tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked; His eyes were
from the cabana thin phone in my hand Blasting Country Grammar, “send dome” my demand Head spinning like Havana syndrome and Xan Yo I do this show daily
Betcha didn't know I could do it like that Didn't know 'till I was digging your back out See in your eyes Caught by surprise Thought you knew but you
eyes and know I'm goin through it I just put my head down and grow through it I grow through it They say that I light up any room that I step in How you
is fucked up--Its fucked up! Thoughts in my head Of people want to kill me But you can't kill me 'cause if you kill me, I'll be back to kill you
hands up (maybe it's the thug in me) By age thirteen I was buckwild, good at my knuckle game Made it through a tough childhood, never be the same
today Now as I look at myself I'm seein' someone familiar Starin' back at me through every deep crack that's in my mirror And as I think to myself I'm
in the back of a paddy wagon I pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dead A big Flintstones lump on the side of my head They took my picture
in the back of a paddy wagon I pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dead A big Flintstones lump on the side of my head They took my picture
tell she only had a drink to suppress all the things in her head She looked so sad, there were tears in my eyes that I had to hold back So I went to bed
loose You killed my cousin back in '94, fuck yo' truce Now crawl yo' head in that noose You wind up dead on the news Ain't no peace treaty, just
storms in Arizona I make my living on corners, by turning niggas into organ doners, fuck diplomas Haven't you ever heard of a killa, we can go eye to eye
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