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AGNES DEI Lyrics & Music by Michael W. Smith
WORTHY Lyrics & Music by Don Moen

From the recording: Offerings, Track #4.

Alleluia, Alleluia
For our
(Brent Bourgeois/Michael W.Smith)
Here I go,restless heart
Another lovely misadventure in the dark
All my friends who knew me when
Tell me not
tonight

Wo-o
I need you by me
Beside me to guide me
To hold me
To scold
But when I'm bad I'm so, so bad

So let's dance the last dance
So let's
million dollars later I'm a blessing nigga
How a nigga rich but still stressing nigga
Glock .40, Smith & Wesson nigga
Streets will never ever stop testing
my brother home at last
While the flagpole by the football field flew the colors half-way down the mast
The wind blew cold and snow was coming down
The Shocker right after the Grammies
And Will Smith and Jada ass down in Miami
Run up on Timberland and Missy w/the pound
Like you gimme the cash and you put
love letters 
That I would send to my imaginary girlfriend 
I had to pretend 'cause I never played football 
The kid drafted last pick at the roll
The Shocker right after the Grammies
And Will Smith and Jada ass down in Miami
Run up on Timberland and Missy w/the pound
Like you gimme the cash and you put
I still see my brother Michael, 
Pressed and polished, shaking hands down at the store
Everyone had come to see the all-star hop the greyhound bus
for yperite, a very nasty gas.
And zed's the final letter
And by final, I mean last.

OK, when you say zed,
For the benefit of our American friends
a million from the claims to left and right?

Now aren't things like that enough to drive a man to booze?
But Hard-Luck Smith was hoodoo-proof--he knew
And recognize you got a crook in the place
They call me w-e-e crooked letter "Y" I'm so high
I skeet skeet in any nigga dime like she's mine
Street sweeper in
Smith and Wess 
Pull your girl up out her dress, snatch the baby out the nest 
Represent the Mid-west, after we drug test 
Look like federal express,
This is the last time, I know I'm 'bout to drive you crazy
Last time but I gotta see my baby
I know I swore that I'd never break your heart no more
This is the last time, I know I'm 'bout to drive you crazy
Last time but I gotta see my baby
I know I swore that I'd never break your heart no more
ain't no stopping us now, my nigga

[Freck Billionaire]
Ya clip trip, clip spit
Get your strip wet
I got the rubber grip Smith and my rich sweats
(There Won't Be No Rock 'N' Roll)
(C.W. McCall, Bill Fries, Chip Davis)

Well, it's only gonna be about an hour, friend
'Til they dam your favorite
did before, man
This the music business, man. You're only as hot as your last hit
Everybody like, "Yo, can he get another ring?"

100 million
[Ving Rhames]
He's a hustler, unbound by law
A self-made, millionaire
With a wreckless disregard, for the haters
Ludacris, on "Southern Gangsta"
letters under candle, delivered by camel
Layin in a dug-out channel's kinda hard to handle
So I say a little prayer to my maker in this blood filled place
the dice fast
I can't even find time just to sit and write raps
You livin like that
Man the scratch I reverse the north
I'm sucked in by the perfect storm
I
off your face
And recognize you got a crook in the place
They call me w-e-e crooked letter "Y" I'm so high
I skeet skeet in any n**** dime like she's
Intro: DJ KaySlay]
Aiyyo it's DJ KaySlay the Drama King
And for those of y'all that don't know
I'm workin with a new artist, he goes by the name
This jam was created for the ears of a realist
Get off my shit list (?????)
Murder He Wrote, that was my last jam
Like Michael Jordan with the new dunk
closet full of old leathers
Old sweaters, old boots, that's a whole suit for some cold weather
New sale, two L's and some old letters
Now he doing double