Search results for pass through my will by john michael talbot

We've found 42 lyrics, 100 artists, and 100 albums matching pass through my will by john michael talbot:


Albums:

The John Michael Talbot Collection (John Michael Talbot) · Connie Talbot's Holiday Magic (Connie Talbot) · Connie Talbot's Holiday Magic (Connie Talbot) · Connie Talbot's Christmas Album (Connie Talbot) · Connie Talbot's Holiday Magic (Connie Talbot) · Live! at the Talbot: Roots Off the Beaten Path (Hutchinson, Hutch) · John Cougar, John Deere, John 3:16 (Keith Urban) · The Cooldown Experience: George Michael Vs. Michael Jackson (The Sunset Lounge Orchestra) · John Michael Montgomery (John Michael Montgomery) · John Michael Montgomery (John Michael Montgomery) – and 90 other albums »


Words and music by John Kay and Michael Wilk

Right here, right now, I want it
I just got to get my share of the pie
I've been watching from
By michael mcdonald and chester thompson

From a house comes the sound of an infant crying
People stand and stare at the door
They dare not go in
Motherfucker might as well let my lips pucker
Like Elton John, cause I'm just a mean cock sucker
This shit is on, cause you went and pissed me off
Now I'm
I cooled out, while my boys were in prison
I always told them that right, overrules wrong
Cause ever since a boy mama told me judgment they will
go, we go
I pass my April fools in monster may
I pass by so much bull I should say "ole!"
I got friends named raggedy Ann and Andy
Call my "bon
brought my buddy, Mr. John Michael Montgomery with me
He's gonna play a lil' guitar and sing a lil bit
I'm gonna do a lil sumthin' for y'all
Called 'Ride
existence
D-Block daddy, new black Caddy
Coming through knocking Michael McDonald and Patty
P's a haze and still going for 8 in a natty
Rather have God
the glass blackboard MCs so I can see through I do my Dew 

Do my thang 

Hip hop is my Love Supreme 

That's word to John Coletrane 

This cat Dwayne
succumb 
To the will of the slum bite your tongue 
Burn a bush with the Iron Lung, pay dirt to no one 
Guilty by association, stank bitch 
Want to give
Nigga, you need to git up, git out and git something
Don't let the days of your life pass by
You need to git up, git out and git something
Don't
could do it 
The Peas will do it so 

Do it, do it, do it 
Get up on the stage and release my fluid 
Do my thing, do it through the music
that I brought my friends
She was fine, sweet with a touch of class
No Head, No Backstage Pass
Funk used to be a bad word to you
I couldn't stop myself
will do it so

Do it, do it, do it
Get up on the stage and release my fluid
Do my thing, do it through the music
Funkafied and therapeutic

I don't know
coupe Lexuses
Follow me on my Exodus
My poetics will earn the respect of thus
An individual crushing hypocritical nothings
Like aluminum cans
Put me
Nigga, you need to git up, git out and git something
Don't let the days of your life pass by
You need to git up, git out and git something
Don't
(Chorus) - Move out the way when I'm passin' through.
I got heads to the front and the back of you.
I got the world in my hands, you could have it
to vent a rhyme
So I can still invent the lines and stay close to the friends of mine
"'Cause real will recognize real" is what my father says
And I'll
on the stage and release my fluid 
Do my thing, do it through the music 
Phunkafied and therapeutic 

[Chorus] 

Wait a minute! 
You got to rock with
existence
D-Block daddy, new black Caddy
Coming through knocking Michael McDonald and Patty
P's a haze and still going for 8 in a natty
Rather have God
Well I comes through with two packs
Of tha bomb pro-folax
For protection
So my fuckin sac won't collapse
Cause nowadays, shits evading the x-rays
tonight's the night
I got my mind made up, come on
Get in get in too
Let it ride tonight's the night

Well I come through with two packs
Of the bomb
through microscope, for my country and the hurt
My eyes bleed, I see Aaron Steed, the Haitian Pope
Figure or Dundee, the-riginal Malcom X
Swing like
the ground
What's goin on my man? (Goddamn!) And now my brain is hurtin'
Listen up, Busta, rhythm will hit 'em then I get 'em
Rip on 'em, shit on 'em, hit
gazelles don't lean on my nose
Drivin' by the clubs gleamin' and go
Heads turn it's a freak show
I need them to know When will they learn
Nas need a queen
me the checks 
Like snaggle puss I'll step to the left 
With this freak but that quiet is kept 
My philosophy is tha boss of me 
Pass the hot sauce