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JOHN HENRY (Traditional) « © '52 Silvehill Music » John Henry was a little bitty boy sittin' on his mommy's knee When he picked up a hammer
the drama Always tryin' to make a movie, little stark-ravin' looney Stressin' it, but you know the ghetto keep you busy (yeah) A place that when I die it
the drama Always tryin' to make a movie, little stark-ravin' looney Stressin' it, but you know the ghetto keep you busy (yeah) A place that when I die it
packs an M-16 (uh-huh) Says the boy to the fiend What do you mean? Huh (uh-huh) What do you mean, John 3 16? For God so loved the world, every one packs
John Legend's set (yeah) Me and you could take a time Watch the years and days and hours pass by (yeah) Hey bae, you got the hourglass type shit
[Intro: Redman] Gilla House niggas Check it out ('Cause I like it!) [Verse 1: Redman] Yo! I'm Ghetto Fab, hungry Beastie Boy with (Brass Monkey)
and took him by the arm He said Johnny, come and go along with me Poor boy Johnny, come and walk along with me John Hardy stood in his old jail cell
cooperating with God By accepting Jesus Christ as our personal Lord and savior And as the Lord does return in the coming seven days We'll see you next time
killed you for some change Smile for my homie Kevin Miller my boy Randall The ghetto persons that lost they loved ones to these ghetto scandals
the carburetors and The re-built generators I spent the whole night picking On an old flattop guitar John would play the fiddle and I'd always sing a little No
at the ghetto thinkin bout All my homies passed away (uuunnnggghhh!) Candy painted cadillacs and triple gold That's how me and my boys rolled How
Might spend a little time with A bitch let her know I'm married to the dope, I live the Thug Life Born in the ghetto as a street thug Labelled as a cop
and dope boys harassed by the police Still getting pulled over and asked by the police Bama wasn't made for a nigga to win See the color of ya skin get ya
is John Wayne Lopez On a ranch down in South Texas, by the Rio Grande side Was a bull named El Diablo, it was said no man could ride Many a cowboy
Happy holidays Let me come here and talk to you I gotta stop sayin' I'm not doin' this shit no more knowin' I'm cappin' (Great John on the beat by
about to bring that real soul back to the game John Legend on the backgrounds by the way let's go From what I hear Kanye is killing the game very bad My
The ghetto red hot, rude boy licking shots In your area, mad man terror on your block Ruckus, for the trouble, making gat busting Head touchers
serious That's why I expose my soul to the globe, the world I'm tryin' to make it better for these little boys and girls I'm not just another individual
ba bere Only rough life la ma embrace E je sara brief little story ni pa padi mi kan Omo pastor lo je ni hood but oma ji ikan Tio ba ti wa Ile mi by
of the nose Soul, let 'em know 'bout them blocks that we rose from Legend in my city, must acknowledge it I hustle 'fore fightin', head down, they Robinson,
Woke up by 2am feeling like a drunk man Thinking of the warmth and the touch of your hand I'm a broken young boy that you used like a toy And each
Ain't no love in Oakland, bitch Niggas always talkin bout 'I love you' But ain't no love, bitch Now it's a shame, I can't be saved by John
and I gotta show it I hear them cries from the babies I wish they had a chance don't want to blow it But unemployed for all the little girls and boys
of Me” by Legend I got a whole lotta things I wanna say to you But Chris Martin said it better I'm just tryin’a tell you something that you never heard
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