Search results for bury me by pieta brown

We've found 49 lyrics, 100 artists, and 100 albums matching bury me by pieta brown:


Albums:

Bury the Axe (Jimmy Page) · Bury the Hatchet (Right Direction) · Bury My Lovely (October Project) · Bury My Lovely (October Project) · Bury the Hatchet (The Cranberries) · Bury Your Head (Saosin) · We Will Bury You! (Electric Frankenstein) · Bury Me in My Rings (The Elected) · A Place to Bury Strangers (A Place to Bury Strangers) · Bury the Hatchet (The Cranberries) – and 90 other albums »


I want to be blinded by your brown eyes
When I have to die I want to cut my veins on your lips
I have not yet ruled enough
My hands in chains
charges left to me by a dead sailor from Bury being wired up under every window sill in close proximity to my ears. When friends ring and are inconvenient
We meet inside the café
The air is thick like hospital
Choked by the gold on your finger
We were lovers

Bury the thoughts that resurface
Those hands
(dokken, brown, pilson)


Picture yourself in a river drowning inside your heart
Finding there is no tomorrow only this place that you are
That you
to take trips, my bitches down to hit licks, my bitches roll the wood up, throw up the hood up sip lean and get lit
And when I die bury me right by bitch
autographs by the G's in the in-stores
And then there's oh mad sex and ASCAP checks
So when I, um, plex it, it's me I'm in the beamer or Lexus
Guess which
I got by

Creflo pray Mike Vick payed bobby brown stray Whitney lost weight
Kimbo Slice on the pad when I write
That Mayweather money looking funny in
drastic, ain't no names compared to me
Who are you, where are ya, I can't see, ya air to me
Ya not there to me, I ain't fucking with you bitch niggas
I'm
drastic, ain't no names compared to me
Who are you, where are ya, I can't see, ya air to me
Ya not there to me, I ain't f***ing with you b**** n****s
I'm
just some dogs

[Method Man]
By any means necessary, it's on
B****, your f***ing with a dog, all I want to do is bury some bones
Take a piss
some dogs, we just some dogs

[Method Man]
By any means necessary, it's on
Bitch, your fucking with a dog, all I wanna do is bury some bones
Take
but somehow I got by

Treflo prayed, Mike Vick payed
Bobby Brown stray, Whitney lost weight
Kimbo Slice on da pad when I write
Dat may why they
talking about, ‘I wanna see you deceased’

No doubt, to live and die in LA
California, what you say about Los Angeles
Still the only place for me
That never
bury niggas close to heart
What was a friend now a ghost in the dark, cold hearted bout it
Nigga got smoked by a fiend, trying to floss on him
Blind
me
That never rains in the sun and everybody got love

To live and die in L.A.
Where everyday we try to fatten our pockets
Us niggas hustle for
the field
And what you can't have now, leave in your will
But don't knock me for tryin' to bury
Seven zeros, over in Rio Dijanery
Ain't nobody's hero, but I
the government's political prisoners
They are locked up falsely by this white man

So tell me why you
Changed to choose a new direction, in the blink of an eye
I got by

Creflo pray Mike Vick payed bobby brown stray Whitney lost weight
Kimbo Slice on the pad when I write
That Mayweather money looking funny in
but somehow I got by

Creflo pray Mike Vick payed bobby brown stray Whitney lost weight
Kimbo Slice on the pad when I write
That Mayweather money
bury me a thug
Henessy and weed be a ball with desert 
These shirts and kakis is how we work 
Hypnotized by change after fortune and fame
I roll 20's
real in the field
And what you can't have now, leave in your will
But don't knock me for tryin' to bury
Seven zeros, over in Rio Dijanery
Ain't
real in the field
And what you can't have now, leave in your will
But don't knock me for tryin' to bury
Seven zeros, over in Rio Dijanery
Ain't
real in the field
And what you can't have now, leave in your will
But don't knock me for tryin' to bury
Seven zeros, over in Rio Dijanery
Ain't
real in the field
And what you can't have now, leave in your will
But don't knock me for tryin' to bury
Seven zeros, over in Rio Dijanery
Ain't
real in the field
And what you can't have now, leave in your will
But don't knock me for tryin' to bury
Seven zeros, over in Rio Dijanery
Ain't