Lyrics:
The rape over, Chaney talking, forty-five dollars for a case of soda
Draining taxpayers, eighty-five thousand dollar oil filters (damn)
But won't pay they
Oh, for a thousand tongues to sing
My great Redeemer's praise
The glories of my God and King
The triumphs of His grace
My gracious Master
painful steps and slow,
Look, now! for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing:
O rest beside the weary road,
And hear the angels sing!
For
gave him the horn.
Chorus :
That was a rude old rhyme, sing us another verse,
Worse than the other verse, sing us another one do.
A mortician who
hours
Come swiftly on the wing
O rest beside the weary road
And hear the angels sing!
For lo!, the days are hastening on
By prophet bards foretold
When
by the camp fire
I been in the sun check the tan line
Sticking niggas up got their hands high
Twisting up their tongue got their hands tied
Threatening
O for a thousand tongues to sing My great Redeemer's praise
The glories of my God and King, The triumphs of His grace!
My gracious Master and my God,
painful steps and slow,
Look, now! for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing:
O rest beside the weary road,
And hear the angels sing!
For
the mountain, sparkling like a fountain,
All sufficient Grace for even me.
Broader than the scope of my transgressions,
sing it!
disabled
And art made tongue-tied by authority,
And folly—doctor-like—controlling skill,
And simple truth miscall’d simplicity,
And captive good attending
show
Because my tongue is actually fast but then again it's slow
See yo (Throw it bro) you say cheeka-boo
A name pertained for niggas who WHO
Who
get off of kicks, vick your flick
Hard as bricks, rock ya sick over the mix
The L, L, C, O, O, L J Period now you know bro!
N-I-T-R-O yo go for what
is to sing Him song
Heaven only way for me thats kingdom come
For His spirit Dwell and I speak in tongue
E too go make sense
When we talk about
a brief reminder: my salary has not been paid.
Send it care of the ghost, by return of post Q P.T.O.:
No-one likes a debtor, so it's better if my orders are
for my village, yeah
I do it for my pe (Aye, yes, sir)
And the blood drippin' by the gallons (Grr)
Dolo in the whip, I solo any clique
It's not
you - a chirpy little bird
i am thoroughly smitten
by the softness of the
word that lays on your tongue your lips
the your breath make believe no less
worthy to take the book
And to open the seals thereof
For thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood
Out of every kindred, and tongue
Oh, for a thousand tongues to sing
My great Redeemer's praise
The glories of my God and King
The triumphs of His grace
My gracious Master
your year's gonna come
You didn't live by the pipe or the gun to be like me
Waitin for my turn to burn
and get a million-five, and a tax return
that be
food for thoughts cuz by the time
I'm done with these beats you're gonna need Atkins
I could see your mouth watering
That's why I bought you a pack full
DeVille wit fo's
This for all my thundercats that feel my flow
To slang weight, my young guns will steal ya o's
Catch a bellin down Lukerson & Hunt
place, O LORD of hosts!
My soul longs, yes, faints for the courts of the LORD; my heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God.
Even the sparrow finds
Church boy
Yessir
Yamba sε yε bε de agr) o
I'm born again
Spirit filled
I'ma slur in tongues
If he said I believe it
Nothing you can tell me can change it
hear me sing satanic rites of sin
And you will kneel before me by my satanic rites of sin
Theres nothing pure, theres nothing right
We're just lost
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