Lyrics:
been saved by grace
I've been saved by grace
I've been saved by grace
I've been saved by grace
Y-e-a-h
Vinye, megavor naneke oo
My name is Emmanuel
I'm
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
(What's your name?) Marshall
(Who's your daddy?) I don't have one
My mother reproduced like a Komodo dragon
my life that's not what he wrote
And it's fortutunate that God got his people by the rod and the staff He don't need a rope
God took it all
Don't you know, he was the king of saxophones
Yes indeed he was;
Talkin' 'bout the guy that made it sound so good
Some people knew him by the Bean
Don't you know, he was the king of saxophones
Yes indeed he was;
Talkin' 'bout the guy that made it sound so good
Some people knew him by the Bean
from Dallas feelin like a Maverick
Making him disappear like it's magic
He on my dick nigga he a hopper
He said he serious asking why i'm laughin'
Nigga
claims that he wrote the Blue Suede Shoes
Elvis shaved his head when he went into the army
That's right y'all his name is
Johnny
Johnny Ryall, Johnny Ryall
I spit it from my heart, yeah I spit it from my soul
I've been trying to make a living and a million off a dollar and a dream and what I wrote
wrote the guest list
Out of sight, me and my peeps are getting solar
She walked by, I reached out and said, "Yo, nola"
"That's not my name", I said, "I
the news
All my bitches winnin', how it feel to lose?
Nigga tryna get the box like he finna move
Bitch, I'm at my pinnacle I used to shop at Pinnacle,
poem by Hesse titled “Stages” and one by Wendell
Berry titled “Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front” and then one
he wrote:
3a.m.
I stare at three
a bitch, you know how I come
MAC 11 rangin', slangin', cuddles with the drum
Keep my name out your fuckin' mouth, endin' off your tongue
Double 0, 17, my
By the shore of the sea searching for his memory
Sifting sand through my hand weighing what he means to me
In the early morning haze seagulls seem
It reminds me, that it's not so bad
It's not so bad
Dear Slim, I wrote you but you still ain't callin'
I left my cell, my pager, and my home phone
boots that I'm itching to rummage
Two quid in my back pocket who knows what I'll spend it on
A well-used telescope or maybe even Tron
On DVD, because I've
But he would never take it out his archives
He wrote two songs per day
And was constantly was experimenting with his wordplay
In his youth he did
to say hi
Standin' there like a mime and let the chance pass by
Back of my mind, "He could change your life
With all these beats I did, at least let him
to say hi
Standin' there like a mime and let the chance pass by
Back of my mind, "He could change your life
With all these beats I did, at least let him
from Vietnam
I crucify 'em, like Muslims murdering Jews from Jerusalem
Now who's the supreme lyricist? You can't seize this
When I die, my name
At odds with the penitentiary as well as the cemetery
Only right I wrote a song made for my brothers
And whether or not you get along with your baby mothers
homies say I’m lame
Thought you knew this ain’t a game
Wrote my name inside the sky like this
I heard heaven’s pretty great
Sweet like Cherry Lemonade
I
game too overcrowded
And nothing they can do about it, give my tapes away for free
And put it in your face on my kush DVD
So you can
Look at my hair,
All Be Gray But Your Picture On My Wall
It Reminds Me, That It’s Not So Bad
It’s Not So Bad
Dear Notch, I wrote you but still no update
I left my
on my MPC
He said, "Pick up a guitar or work the night shift"
Momma, I just wanna get some gold teeth
So errytime' they see him rap, man they despise him
Discuss these he wrote my name dvd by the hoppers 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