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Search results for 'these hands live by jeff deyo' Page #67
Yee yee! We've found 11,484 lyrics and 150 artists matching these hands live by jeff deyo.
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To survive and live life not like a tourist And not just watch, but to experience all of it I catch Butterflies not feelings But their wings get torn apart By
I got dumped by my DJ He said he didn't wanna work with me no more I got dumped by my DJ Cos I worked with someone else on a tiny tour I got dumped
want a fan in your face When yo' man got a heat and the hand in the waist (band) Gotta keep a cool head, niggas got PTSD these days (yeah) Some folks
witnesses Only the questions of who smoked the man, young adolescents In our prime live a life of crime, though it ain't logical We hobble through these
neighbours wanna sleep in peace I'm making sure we would always eat My bro still going for the man in these streets And his mum just wants him home in one
Niggas talkin bout a bag, two in the morning I'm grabbing it Yo bitch showing me her ass By four in the morning I'm stabbing it Stuck to these blues like
bad cause I Know that I can - I ain't gotta reason to fear It if it's a man Forty five in my left hand, and F - M in my right hand Three fifty seven in
Hail Mary that's how we live Lay low good guys catch you with a hook I, know why you lie Ya crew ain't quite like mine Spit it like ooh my, these
(Hook) Im Burning to live, Im filling my lungs, Im clouding my mind, From slithering tongues, Going thru so much shit, Got me grippin my gun, Im
You are a cynic and Your limit is imminent The image is vivid in This prison you live in and Knock the wicked down like the wicket in cricket Or like
these low lives Gravitate to the place of the greats Pick up the pace Fit the ProFile Over here we don't know skies I Slow boat the whole Nile I'm From
I'm flamed up Got the pack in I'm stacking up these back ends She tryna pend a couple charges She never seen a back hand A month ago I left the trap
They always ask if there's 24 hours to live, what would be done That ain’t enough, this a long run You on the job & you know god’s will gotta be done
my third dimension Trapped in my prism like a prison Where they barely pay attention To all these miracles given by all of my writtens Everybody wanna
the chance to talk & say "goodbye" to you first By the time I got back you was already riding in a hearse I been depress & nie that's it worse I get high from
me back home Right for my mind who used to roam Haunted by my insecurities Damaged by all these injuries But you're making, making me laugh Watch me
I was born Through fire, through flames Melted down My hand became this blade Forged by shame and by defeat Held for a war that never came Show me
and the pumpkin pie It'll nearly be like a picture print by Currier and Ives These wonderful things are the things we remember all through our lives These
Been brutally murdered by the Jungle Posse police seem to be baffled to The whereabouts of these four suspects D-Money easily spotted in Candy burgundy
This is my life and many come and go like one night stands I treat live jams like a sermons and in my mic hand A holy get them with ya bless ya Shit you
Was a time when I was younger I saw things get out of hand Now I'm older in the story I realize where I've been It's time I finally said These days
object Spendin' fazools Trips for your whole projects Epcot Center, linens for ya bitches Rolies for your dogs Now we in the mall, slayed by his bitches
of your lives have led you up to this Driven, if not by fame, then avarice Thaumas in rage, salacious Thirsty for blood berates us Darkness surrounds with
to stay These eyes won't see the same, after I flip today Sometimes I don't know why we'd rather live than die We look up towards the sky for answers
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