Lyrics:
my ideas
Everybody with a pulse
Is chewing on my head of course
And everyone who's not around
Was eaten by the background
Feed me to the background!
cracked, full on panic attack
How long have I been driving?
Awoken by rumble strips, broken
Bubble from under grips, asunder becoming fixed, stitched
Wonder
I'm still up in here
I'm hanging by a thread
Mary Jane gotta hold devil wants me dead
I'm still up in here
I'm hanging by a thread
Smoking roaches
cold
Riding round
They know my name in every place we go
This is for the youngins and the old cats
New school still feeling like a throwback
We never
Bleed out, find your revolution
Dictated by something I don't
Something i don't quite believe in
An idea formed by what the prophet sees
Lost in
The idea of her
Running around my head
Running around my head
While I lay
In my bed
She's the girl with no name
Oh, she drives me insane
Will she
linger in revolt
No longer I'll suffer from the cold
Segregate from all that has shackled me
And veiled the truth from my eyes
I call the times when I was
take the white men's name and now you're one with the same
Playin' all of his devilish games
Ho' runnin' 'round in 93' with your slavemaster name
really gone put an end
To this actin’ shit
Look, and only future legendaries be
A part the crew my roots in this shit is
Deep like the man whose
Ideas
Ooh!
(In the name of Rame)
In the name of Raymond (yeah) He was a smooth talker Street balla'
(In the name of Rame) ooh ghetto soldier
I can't
that by the time he was sixty[00:23.49]His kid would probably be frisky[00:24.99]With some fine young lady[00:26.21]Who was into committing[00:28.55]He
the change and have a nice day
And live for the moment not by the past
Homie live each day like it's your last
All my life
I couldn't fit in like a bad
Devastation, Or Moors
Elimination, By Spain
No sense in making, Title Caucasian
After a mountain's name, Between, Russia and China plains
Where Mongolians stayed
Where is the sun
Where is the sun
My heart revolts
So maybe it's cold
Under my pillow
I sold my soul
Look in the mirror and what do you see?
of my t.v. screen.
24-7, You wait for me.
Entertaining angels
By the time I fall to my knees.
Host of heaven, sing over me.
Entertaining angels
position of number 19. Hmmm... Not alot of
people remember that. But, I do! Cause I played on them! Hah! Si! Now look, Murders in the Rue.... Oh by
the way,
your Name every knee dey bow down
For the enemy it's a shutdown
In pastures you dey make I lie down
Like the way that I'm feeling right now
In your Name
on a mill, but I'm pimpin still
Riding round the track, like Goldie in the Mack
Still I'm Don Coreleone pimping hoes from my realm
Mesmerized by the words
Ridiculousness my sisters is coming with them blicks
For throwing dirt on my name it's war games
You pissed me off but still I remained in my own lane
Windows
and fightings. And we did the bed event in amsterdam
and the bag piece in vienna just to give people an
idea, that there's many ways of protest and this is
one
believable
When you rap the fans revolt, some songs you need to leave in the vault
Keep beef at bay, foes wounds seasoned with salt
Been on the brink
forgiveness
Your brand of punishment
To survive in surface
Sentence in revolt
Haunting and corrupting lives
Playing the best to prevent
Showing forces, showing
short-term memory
I'd wake up in the same day, and everything began with me
Like it did in the past 24-7
No idea where I was or where I was headed
But, then
Swing me around by my head like it’s a bright idea
Boys and their bright ideas
Boys and their bright ideas
Whole world could go up in flames
Not even
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