Lyrics:
I'll beat his ass
Getting money, yeah that cold cash
Hand me the blunt, hand me the blunt, hand me the blunt
And shorty I feel bad
I didn't ever wanna, I
Would you like to hear
The story of a man who fell by his own hand
He reached out for the wind time and time again
Just to meet his end
If only he
and withdrew a
revolver. Throw up your hands, he said. I'm Ned Kelly.
The infamous bushranger was accompanied by the rest of the Kelly gang: his brother Dan
Do you know? You're a masterpiece
And God has given you a master key
Do you know? That you're so unique
In God's image you were made, in His hands
and the dreary stare of a dog whose day is done,
As he watered the green stuff in his glass, and the drops fell one by one.
Then I got to figgering who he was,
the evil of days that have brewed
By his commandments and statues
Never let go of his values
Never let go
Hold on
This is your life
Roll strong
Put
The edge of town was just in sight,
There she stood in his lights
With a sign in her hand that just read "San Antone"
He hit his brakes and he stopped
house out there
He took my hand
And whispered
These walls creak and squawk
And call me to talk
These halls seem so long
I'll always be lost
Daunted by
The room smells like fresh hand made tortillas
He recognized the tattoos of a real big Maui brother
Known for bad news when his cash rules
Are you familiar
Let's take a trip to the coast
How the journey goes I don't really know aha
But we can slow dance by the boats
Then hold hands as the sun goes down
enemies
I choose God 'cause He understands
This young man with a thuggish heart
Whole world in his hands but still torn apart
Like I'm so close but it's
your rhymes
It happened and that's real shit
If a nigga would've grabbed my ass
I'd a smacked his hand real quick
But you just scream
"ZIP EM UP!"
Trouble by the morning air, my fear is the culprit
Pickin' at my brain, hope my bones clear from the vultures
Stumbling I got here, my head back from
you when you never
Shook His hand
And take a look at you and say
He'll do it all again
Christians way too busy hating each other
While they taking our
victims of typewriters
The band sounds like typewriters
The big man, he's not listening
His eyes hold Edith
His left hand holds his right
What does
victims of typewriters
The band sounds like typewriters
The big man, he's not listening
His eyes hold Edith
His left hand holds his right
What does
command
But He has time to hold my hand.
I'm an original species
More enlightened than Nietzshe
I'm sure you'd like to meet me
I am loved
By
stress us
‘Cos it’s me and my family and friends
Safely we in His hands
Me and my family and friends
Daily we in His plans
Me and my family and friends
We
like
A man that lost his fuckin' thumb
Hold up, you look like a cab driver
The boy that pump my gas and the boy
At 7-11 I buy my Dutchies from
This might
He was walking alone on a railway track[00:40.78]In his trembling hand carrying a small oil lamp[00:47.20]Filled up with beer he felt so
see her walking home from School
Maybe he’ll see her as she passes his way
Maybe she’ll let him hold her hand It could happen, they say
Well maybe,
gold, dashed and climbed in this van
To steal it and seen a man holding a 9 in his hand
Shot him from the bottom up
Stole his keys, put 'em inside
the first time you did it
Man you felt all guilty or filthy
A sign that approves
You're not of this world
You're suppose to be mighty in His hands
(Whose
Hand huh! Cross that man
Cause I’ma put the gun in his
Hand huh! Cross that man
I’ma put the fence in the
Sand huh! Climb that fence
I’ma put the fence
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