Lyrics:
veins
You created your sin
Blackened by greed
Of your sick twisted need
Can never take back
All you've discarded of me
You took all the smiles
send a bill
That she piles on the floor
She calls it the Monument of Humiliation
Of All the Sick and Poor
[Middle]
She wonders what good is your
were built into airplanes!
Such schmucks those poor nicotine addicts
They'd freak out if one hour or minute
Their mouths should feel nervous and naked
be alone
Baby come back
This is your home
I gotta get you back
By any means
Back
By any means
Back
By any means
Back
By any means
Woman I
One harmless mistake and me fighting days are done
But I swear to those poor sods, when I go abroad
I'll make it back with far fewer bullet holes
It's
Machine against man and the
Planet's in ruins
But by then we will have mastered the craft
Of creating clone soldiers to we don't have
(to) come out
Poor Ace, he's got the beagle blues
What's a poor dog to do
All I ever wanted was to play with you
And now my ball ball days through
If someone took
The incantation they gave voice to in the midst of that sanguineous turmoil which engulfed them was not so much heard by those within earshot as perceived, sensed
I'm so sick and tired of those fuckers talking behind my back
Like a tick they suck my blood, rip off their head and attack!
It's a god damn calamity
the maddeened go to extreme lengths
Who simply couldn't take it
Who knew they wouldn't make it
Being ground down fine, by those who haven't got the time
For they
the floors, by the elevator doors
That's the last thing that I saw
Damn, we plan to make grands of our home
(Number two)
Jagged edge, rockin' God, hard
McCormack and Richard Tauber are singing by the bed
There's a glass of punch below your feet and an angel at your head
There's devils on each side
I conflict with those who are tricked by the gimmick market and can't think
with logic. Logics are in the distance so I'm makin a pop hit hip hop is
violence if you look like them
Eyes wide shut with the prayer hands
President's brain getting poisoned by a spray tan
Soon the poor will have nothin left
wrong
To call out an enemy if they cross lines
Victimized by assault, crimes
And those put in power seem to walk blind
But when it's our kind, it's all
Left alone with my thoughts
And I hear the bastard screaming
It's all your fault
It's all your fault
It's all your fault
But all those fucking thoughts
for you to
Just leave them alone?
The scenes are unreal
Poor crushed by company zeal
To keep their high brow holders happy
Those in power
Double down
for you to
Just leave them alone?
The scenes are unreal
Poor crushed by company zeal
To keep their high brow holders happy
Those in power
Double down
will never cease
Another year another piss poor salary granted to us by the almighty dynasty
Can we please see up close and personal as you lie to your
Yanning logically aye is prejudiced
Stereotyped
The poor masses are to blind to realize
Every 365 still trying to survive
Waking up steady days
twist on it)
(Master P and Snoop, ha ha, tah dow, poppin' collars)
[Chorus: Master P & Snoop]
Pop those collars
Pop those collars
Pop those collars
McCormack and Richard Tauber are singing by the bed
There's a glass of punch below your feet and an angel at your head
There's devils on each side
McCormack and Richard Tauber are singing by the bed
There's a glass of punch below your feet and an angel at your head
There's devils on each side
McCormack and Richard Tauber are singing by the bed
There's a glass of punch below your feet and an angel at your head
There's devils on each side
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