Search results for cross em by 2 sense

We've found 788 lyrics, 47 artists, and 100 albums matching cross em by 2 sense:


Albums:

The Plot Against Common Sense (Future of the Left) · Sense of Purpose [Reissue] (In Flames) · Time: A Sense of Place (Hutchinson, Hutch) · The Sense Apparatus (Frantic Bleep) · The Hearing & The Sense of Balance (Fury in the Slaughterhouse) · One Day It'll All Make Sense (Common) · Sense of Purpose [Clean] (In Flames) · A Sense of Purpose (In Flames) · A Sense of Place (John Mayall) · Sense [Cassette Single] (The Lightning Seeds) – and 90 other albums »


perfect sense
And here come the players
As I speak to you now the captain
Has he cross hairs zeroed on the oil rig
It looks to me like he's going
hell's pavement
G see d see
Took a walk down pulled by the tide
G see d see
I had to make some new arrangement
Em see g
Oh I thought I'd reach the other
makes perfect sense
And here come the players
As I speak to you now the captain
Has his cross hairs zeroed in on the oil rig

It looks to me like
They're looking for some hired guns on the Texas border
To shoot 'em all down if they try to cross over the water
And they've got their old white
They're looking for some hired guns on the texas border
To shoot 'em all down if they try to cross over the water
And they've got their old white
about to sneak up on you and your crew
 
Ya know what I'm saying ayyo check 1-2
Ayyo masta killa I want you to put one up in 'em son
And show 'em you
conglomerates
He plans to hold a conference to introduce the microchip
But I got the contract to leave 'em stiff
They ordered to hit

[Chorus: x2]
A hit
making out
But you never felt the same you are in doubt
Well
You mystified me I know
And then you walked by me
And the spell was broken in two

Too soon my
door so
Let em in, let em in, let em in (hey)

1, 2, 3, 4 some crazy-ass kids come and knock up on your door so
Let em in, let em in, let em in (hey)

I
the shootie
Got 'em running from the paparazzi
Lodie dotie

When the feds come and doom your party
Cracker in the back
Don't you know it's illuminati
blatantly blasphemous
Publicly perpetrating that "In God We Trust"
Cross-examined by a master manipulator
The faster intimidator
Receiving the judge's
There's lots of sense
Keepin' things as they are -
With the Swiss accounts
Burstin' boullion bars.
Scam after scam,
You've seen 'em all
But if you
a crime!
Unless it was done by a
Policeman or aristocrat
Know your rights

And Number two
You have the right to food money
Providing of course you
a crime
Unless it was done
By a policeman
Or an aristocrat
Oh, know your rights

And number two
You have the right to food money
Providing of course
You
Well the street lights shine
Down on Blessing Avenue
Lovers they walk by
Holdin' hands two by two

A breeze crosses the porch
Bicycle spokes
I carry the cross, if Virgin Mary had an abortion
I'd still be carried in the chariot by stampeding horses
Had to bring it back to New York
I'm happy
a fond farewell
By the time I get to Memphis I'll be outta my shell

Cotton fields just as white as snow
Sweet magnolia blossoms grow
Big moon shinin'
this don't make sense
She's done jumped the fence
And I'm speedin' cross Texas on a broken heart
I'm goin' home where the coyote roam
Makin' my camp
the swimming pool,
I don't owe you niggas nothing,
Call me 2 fingers when you see a nigga stunting,
Black Philip drumming limousines of the hummer,
Penthouse
I carry the cross, if Virgin Mary had an abortion
I'd still be carried in the chariot by stampeding horses
Had to bring it back to New York
I'm
through your fingers

I do everything I should
I still got to learn how to be good
You got two strong arms, I see
Can't you bring ?em around, wrap ?em
and I did before she passed
The good life has no equivalent
It ain't a fantasy no more because I'm living it

(Chorus x 2)
Geto fantasies
I don't live
Together
Freedom for today
Tomorrow forever
So see the people's way

Many moons cascade one river
They light from side to side
As we cross in close
Dollar cents, since shit, sense I ain't lost it
It's in a fuckin' jar with guitar picks and bar spit
Bar spat, past tense, warriors of radness
Fuck
and afflicted it and he raised 'em from the dead 
Then they nailed him on an old rugged cross and put thorns on his head 
Who was it everybody... 
Well they