Lyrics:
(What's good)
You may take my mind (For sure)
If you heal my heart
In the spirit let the choir sing it
Every note is organized
Each one is for the broken
(What's good)
You may take my mind (For sure)
If you heal my heart
In the spirit let the choir sing it
Every note is organized
Each one is for the broken
dance in the dark with me
This resurrected agony there's apathy for caskets
Everything I ever loved I lost in the magic
I claim by the river, my body
walkin the streets, I hope it is a good path
Lookin for my dad, tell him how we survived in the hood
It was all good, 'cause 99 percent of your life
sweeter than a choir
Speaking facts
I love when you kiss me and hold on my hand
You got me feeling ways I can't understand
Lost in my head and you be
happen again
AMG the family, don’t be tryna play the middle
Penning parts of life, sent my mind to sentimental
Your pen is brittle, you a few cats short
the devil ain't a human check your ego bitch
Nothing booming in the mirror don't pretend you is
Act in life like a fool shit get Ludicrous
But why you trying
to my arms
Take my hand
I'm full of grace
Lay your troubles over me
Feel the beat of my heart.
This is the end for mankind
There will never be
Another
do I entertain y'all with my disrespect?
Respectfully (Great John on the beat, by the way)
Lil Nas X gon' catch AIDS and die like Eazy-E (he is
I see the lights
Dancing, dancing in your eyes
So how do I begin to tell you now
That I can be the one to bring your angel out?
In this life
the life
(of a ghetto star)
I wish nothing but the best for my enemies
I know they wanna see me descended
N even when im dead
They don't wanna see me in
quick
Got me like the trifest not knowin how my life is
My life is, rap sheet long as the Turnpike
The sheistest, hey fella, who bidded with the lifers
is
Her specialty, after all hands come up
One by one "Oh my god, Rihmeek, "
Nicki groans exaggeratedly, invoking Meek's
Middle name for effect "Every
blaze, fulfillin' them, Keith ?, Jesse, Jamil and them
We originate styles, other be stealin' them
You got a good rise in your rolodex, who flow is
Get off my cloud
Look! No strings! Just paper, glue, and card
Hark! The angels sing 'Paste the Lord'
That was the Armley tabernacle
Choir next
the wave and we never docking
Giela papi giela papi Margiela papi
Ride around Brooklyn in a Maserati
Giela papi giela papi Margiela papi
Your bitches call me
of this life
they abusing your mind
so the music I write,
becomes a bubble, and the bubble it shields me from my troubles
in the booth with my mic
by a landslide
All that hoping, ain't your hands tired?
What's the culprit? Is it
Angst, pride, smoking, or you damn liars?
I watched them plans die
Nas, I stay on my job
Try to pray to keep my heart from going harm
And I ain't perfect
You know that from old me
My life is real even when I’m in
the sun'll shine through
And, touch my soul take hold of my hand
Look man, a tree grows in Brooklyn
Some how, some way
I gotta make it up out the hood
us
Coming out the gates in Forces
Lord choirs dropping shit like some horses
Uh, the house holy but the office corporate
This life pricy but the war
bent
I lost count, who knows what I spent
I recall nine cleavage
Bitches stepping on my nice sneakers
One hand in the sky, the other hand was on her
celebrate
He's here in this building
The choirs here, the preachers preaching, the Spirits teaching
Raise your hands if you need Him
Yeah let's celebrate yeah
dash
That's yo' ass, my kills make me the last man that stands
It's that Brooklyn Zoo, damn, they want you to raise your fuckin' hands
I'm equipped
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