Lyrics:
getting knocked down by my fears
I smear them and move on that's how I was raised
But I fear that if I stay here I'll just stay afraid
I can't lie to you,
and crawl in it like a tunnel
From the 3-1-3 to the 8-1-0
Hey Brian, you ain't coverin' the rush hole
You're not doin' it right, pay attention
Who
get rougher, y'all don't wanna unify, it's all division
We ain't giving up any guns, whole gang pack-a-punch
God we trust, all the guns are Plan B
Way
god like
Look
I lost 3 aunts and Lost two uncles
Swear them shits was coming back to back
And when I found out I lost lover
I ain't know how to act
Christmas Snow in Heaven
By Sean Kealy and Tammy Edwards
Verse one
Thanksgiving was two weeks away
When the saddest heartbreak came to pass
Three
As the room became red
GOD O GOD! What have you done?
And he sat there holding 3 towels
Between his legs
No caring now whether she left or stayed
Wore yellow
there's three things I learned to put before my self and career
God, family and my fans
I wish that I could hold your hand
And be like Moses, part the Red
About this time
You know we got you open, don't front
You know the name by now
You know what we want 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1
It's Priest mothafucka
You
and demand; I'm The man to supply! Y'all like who came with this guy
Hell if I told you about how I'm surrounded
By potential it's essential drop everybody that
sweet pussy, let it breathe
Two fingers is all in your hole, think I can fit three
Your pink lips, spreaded and shit, let me throw my dick in
Grab my
yet you wanna put a hole in me
Sugar free, seasoned but I'm salt free
You lay a hand on Hov, my shooters shoot for free
I promise World War three
I say this
Im too high maintenance
No I wont settle
Well shit
Maybe in Seattle
Wrote this
On the Samsung s3 mmm that thing was shaped like
there's three things I learned to put before my self and career
God, family and my fans
I wish that I could hold your hand
And be like Moses, part the Red
existence in this cosmic fight
Three-headed dead grandma with vulture claws
The Grim Reaper's cloak, shredded by the law
Giant Ratmen with swords made out
solos
Photographic photo type static great motivated soldier
Or Wu say boulder head flower
You can detect the true and living God from the scorer
Keep
and red cent (true)
Monopoly is real life when you're fine
She the head of the game (who she is?)
Yo, my homegirl Money Jane
I hope you witness
And you're hit by the full force of something pushed back and hidden
That's found a crack somewhere and rapidly risen
From some river or lake buried way down
em I'mma get the witness, teach 'em more of this
We never sing not even on a song where the chorus is
Dig the hole, get the wood box bring the florist
his face
Sausage shaped red shit hangin from his waist
(SP)
Nigga I'm well connected
By the time you hear this I'll be in jail but I probly got
always he an abomination in gods eye
History tells of some murderous dudes
And the news channel calls 'em the red and the blues
And they'd round you up
solos
Photographic photo type static great motivated soldier
Or Wu say boulder head flower
You can detect the true and living God from the scorer
Keep
solos
Photographic photo type static great motivated soldier
Or Wu say boulder head flower
You can detect the true and living God from the scorer
Keep
On either side of the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the world and meet the sky;
And thro' the field the road run by
I am a little beggarman and beggin I have been
For three score years in this little isle of green
I'm known along the Liffey from the basin
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