Search results for 'because of who you are by brooklyn tabernacle choir' Page #8

Christmas
This is all just talk
I'm getting you a present
I got that gift on lock

But Christmas songs are bad
Like Jingle Bell Rock
Who writes these songs?

Where U At?

Professor Griff

Blood of the Profit

gravity cannot be escaped
Centrifugal force pulls you to the parallel bounds
A manifested thought that cannot be followed by sound
My physical is bound
But

on the beat)
who believe will be saved
 Ay ay

[Hook: Tebz Smith]
I believe (ay)
I believe (uh uh)
I believe 
Do you believe (hey)
Only those that believe will

the punch
Free doughnut powder lined the lungs
For cameras surveilling from above,
Whose tapes were empty all along
Who's watching if the
W-I-Z-A-R-D sees

at liars preaching to the choir
Screamin' out for help but no cares
Tryna figure out a plan like I'm playin' musical chairs
Having two lives a wife who

Brooklyn
You know who you are. Shout out to you girl
And I guess that's it
That's all I wrote
I was gonna bring in another brother on this track but I think

ends dawg
It’s safe to say fuck the world It’s the end dawg
It’s safe to say you gotta watch who you trust
Niggas better get a job because the block

artists
who dont care about your wealth

what you do by your self?
stop asking for the help
no light anywere
like its night during day
dominate you obey

Let's give them a round of applause
I'm only here because my mom made me
Who going first then?, Get em first then
Alright, alright here we go
Get 'em
Okay

But I'm a real motherfucker and I know you're terribly
Immature as fuck judging my past the nerve to glare at me
But I only let people in who prove they

never see you again
Are you still wound up, ready to combust?
Are your dreams the only thing waking you up?
I know you had to leave before the flood

shouldn’t fight with nature
But can’t give up neither
Wish I stand unshaken
ears me apart
Another weak soul
As golden dust
Clings to the coal (Choir)
Even you

dreams and aspirations are profiting just yourself 
All the preaching, all the teaching
Choir singing, sunday morning  is all missing
Now you searching for

beautiful days
Filled with the subtle sounds of cicada choirs
And plums
Which are finally ripe and ready
To drum down upon the bosom
Of this beautiful world

I'm disgusted by these sanctimonious bastards
Who baptize their flock with their fondlings
Masturbation, sodomies and hypocritical vows of chastity

to site worth
White speakers, white preachers
Black History from white teachers,
Who taught me that white people oppressed by a Kingdom,
They revolutionized

will acquire till the day I retire
The voices come together like a choir
Loose Kaynon M I a Timaya
Yes Sire

When dem try to stop you
Let dem know
When

double Grey Goose
Trey deuce in the bubble goose
Hundred proof, who the fuck are you?
Came through with a Brooklyn face
Jordans on his feet and a Crooklyn

Square
Listen to the carolling choirs
Getting home and sitting by the fire
Decorating the Christmas tree
Tinsel striking so visually
Open presents with

young women to take pride and education as they doing themselves
And you must teach young men to love honest, stay near us and help
Because together we

child assassin
Who has admit to decapitating four people uh
His sister is also detained, because she is
Basically admitting
To dumping the bodies