Search results for blood gone bad by 21 guns

We've found 973 lyrics, 100 artists, and 100 albums matching blood gone bad by 21 guns:


Albums:

The Roots of Guns N' Roses: Hollywood Rose & L.A. Guns (Hollywood Rose) · Gone Gone Gone (The Everly Brothers) · Gone Gone Gone (Charlie Feathers) · Gone Gone Gone / A Bash Dem (Monster) · Gone Gone Gone (Charlie Feathers) · Gone Gone Gone / A Bash Dem (Monster) · Sing Great Country Hits/Gone Gone Gone (The Everly Brothers) · Gone Gone Gone / A Bash Dem (Monster) · Gone Gone Gone (The New Deal) · Gone Gone Gone (Charlie Feathers) – and 90 other albums »


21 gun salute
I guess I saw it in my TV show
With the look of the sun on the cityscape
I caught the subway home with a bellyache

When you look
blood
Even on the sweetest honeymoon

The killer of love
Caught the last, late Niagara bus

By chance or escaping from misery
By suddenness or in answer
fight, you cry, you lie, you bleed
And you lean on one another
Blood brothers

Time can fly on by
Everything can change
Until the day we die
We'll
They got guns and tanks and planes

The wells are gone dry and the water is bad and the air is acid rain
There's war after war and rumors of war from
Billy, just like Billy the Kid

Well now, Billy he was a bad boy
He won the wilder west
By the year of 21, had many notches on his gun
But someone
gone by till he stood once again 
In the government store down in Cherokee Bend

He was ten years tall and a Redskin too
So he hadn't much face
save me (Matthew 1:21)
I knocked
He opened up and ran right in
Now the big bad wolf will never (Matt. 11:28)
Steal out of the hand of God Almighty
on
The trees wait by the freeway
All the money is all gone
Well she told me she would leave me
I ignored all the signs
And now everybody's talking
in me

Oh yeah, I've been so bad
Oh, I've been so bad baby, bad baby
I've been so bad

In my blood, in my veins, something's got me by the reigns
Try
in 1991, just a happy child
Playing beneath the summer sun
A vacant lost his playground, by 12 he's got a gun
The odds are bet against him, junior
Born into the ghetto, 1991
Just a happy child playin' beneath the summer sun
A vacant lot's his playground
By 12 he's got a gun
The odds are bet
dangerous than than n****z with guns
They make the guns easy to get and try to keep n****z dumb
Target the gangs and graffiti with the Prop 21
I already
understand me, the yo, Brad, bwoy
Fuck that, say goodbye to the bad guy
I shot my gun in the air as I left the place
You'll ask me why, but I don't care,
Professor x and proof we miss you word,
Rest in peace to Shaka, 21 gun salute in the air like
Bloc! bloc! bloc!
Still here cause your livin through me
In a world gone wild 

She is rising 
The ground are shaking and the fires are burnin? 
Down in the bad streets 
He is cryin? 
He stood
with a gang
I'd rather shoot it out, by God, than let 'em see me hang

Bullet in my shoulder,
Blood runnin' down my vest,
Twenty in the posse,
with a gang
I'd rather shoot it out, by God, than let 'em see me hang

Bullet in my shoulder,
Blood runnin' down my vest,
Twenty in the posse,
you're sad

killed by an angel
lost inside amazing colors
it's never how you feel
it comes in a bottle
let's say you found a gun;
how would your bad
for fun
They say the only thing I know is how to use a gun
But they don't know the reason they branded me as bad
It started many years ago when I was
Subway sounds, the sounds of complaint
The smell of acid on his gun of paint.
As it carves out anger in a blood-red band,
Destroyed tomorrow by
Subway sounds, the sounds of complaint
The smell of acid on his gun of paint.
As it carves out anger in a blood-red band,
Destroyed tomorrow by
him, said he should apologize
Then he destroyed a bomb factory, nobody was glad
The bombs were meant for him. He was supposed to feel bad
He's
Now that the night has gone away
End of the day seemed near
He went out the empty court
Filled with shame and fear

Trapped by a shadow set,
pesos
This is the way it goes, this is the way we roll
'Cause everyday we oughta have pesos
Gun clock Gun shot, gone a little boy
Gun clock Gun shot,
Trace your way back 50 years
To the glow of Dresden, blood and tears
In the black above by the cruel searchlight
Men will die and men will fight,