Search results for fts by showtek

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Showtek


Eliminate, the life decline
I've paid the masters with blood and hunger 
And it's not for sale by any stretch. 
It's like religion without a Bible
the darkness
All crazy out of control
Hey throwed around that panhandle town
Till ft couldn't throw ft around no more
Yeah some blamed secret government
find it easy to express myself
I hit the drums so hard I break all my heads
And then I end the day in one of my beds

I'm nearly 5 ft. 7 tall
I like
Midnight in the Holy City
Playground for restless souls
Graveyards for the sons of Ft. Sumpter
And the ghostly daughters
Wait for their boys
fuel
To get it, it needs puppets
So what's ten million dead if it's keeping out the Russians?

We're well-trained by the CIA with Yankee tax money in
remember where he parked his car 
Or to whom he lost the keys 
Full of angst and hillbilly haiku 
What's a poor Ft. Worth boy to do 
Go on rhyme
l want a candle on my cake
t want the sun to come out today
l want you by my side
l want a place where l belong - l want a face that makes me
Saw your picture on the highschool wall,
Even way back then you were beautiful
Ya you were sporting braces and braids
Now you stand just under 6ft
makes you sick
They gave you talking points
They taught you double-speak
They forced you into war
By saying you were weak

They signed your checks
She came in on the red eye to Dallas-Ft. Worth
All the way from sunny Taipei
Skin the color of a walnut shell
And a baseball cap holding down her
in the east and set in west 
I figured I owned just dark skies and that darkness ft me best. 
Here I is, all thin and balled-up, 
Wrapped up in
pumped the pimp
That fed the fiends
He got jumped by the brothers in Ft. Green
They slapped the mack
That kept us back
Sucker suckin' the hood like
(Ft Inaya Day)

I know you wanna change me
I know you'd like to make me beg you please
Criticize and break me
Make me walk around on hands and knees
(Ft Inaya Day)

I know you wanna change me
I know you'd like to make me beg you please
Criticize and break me
Make me walk around on hands and knees
We don't make no damn Mickey Mouse music! 

F.T.S. with The Coup, whatchu want to do? 
F.T.S., Coup 

Undas, Cops, Pigs and Shit 
They be
Cant understand some of these 
Rhymin' in circles
Now patriotic emcees
On bent knees 
By six degrees
Lord have mercy
Even the voice of god
left hand can play the choir
With 16ft Diapason
And Lowrey's patented Orchestral Symphonizer

Banjo's great on repeat
The kids want to play but
ADAM: I am a simple goat.
I live on the back of a pick-up truck.
The Old Man tied me here with a 3 ft. rope.
Am I happy?
He don't give a fuck.
OLD
go by easy, when the bomb right

Chorus

[Verse 2  5 ft]
The weight of the world is on my shoulder
But, everyday I wake I find myself I'm getting
haven't been to the Ft. Worth stock show,
Sang along with Cory Morrow,
You ain't seen a hill country sunset,
Then you ain't met My Texas yet.

You say you
haven't been to the Ft. Worth stock show,
Sang along with Cory Morrow,
You ain't seen a hill country sunset,
Then you ain't met My Texas yet.

You say you
Mona, fine young sugar comin out of Arizona
5 ft. 6 straight thick with a switch 
And a set of them juicy-ass lips (Mmh...)
Kinky, just like me
She can
and cries, we start huggin
On the corner in Ft. Greene, we're buggin
Tears drip as we walk to the crib
And I'ma try to be there to comfort the kid
I woke up
Ft. Lauderdale and by the way, all my homies that's in the Bay
5-0-3 what can you say
Atlanta, GA, can't forget VA, NYC and the USA, USA, USA
Everybody
hurt if you come from out of town
But down by lord that's word

Fantastic

Show stoppin emcees

Yeah here streets is move by glocks in whos pocket

But