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Search results for 'by y life away album george thorogood' Page #3
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by George ?Papa Doc? Bush. Music by the ?Village People? the very military "Macho Man." ?Company!!!? ?Macho, macho man!? ? Two-three-four.? ?
dream They do Glad I'm still not What world? I create when I dream, in my life when I die Fix that tie When I die Fix that tie When I die Fix that tie
prayer asking that any enemy get blown away Like a wish getting passed by a feather Or somebody looking at my wrist like a national treasure I don't need
whole life is a allegory The truth I speak is a double-edge And that's why there's no matrimony Everybody knows what I came to do So they separate
which opportunity I should go after next So to help me not waste entire days of my life in indecision about what to do next I've begun to ask myself this
Will recognise me when I'm forty Like Shorty I've been real from day I see MC's I don't carry on away So why would they wanna hate Us when it's 2008? You
for life We got cops killing civilians Like its alright hmm Y’all don’t really give a fuck Thats why I look up to the sky And I’m praying to God that
Yo You'd think after all these years of being clean I'd get my feelings back Right? So why it don't feel like that It's like God built my heart
People love to say that your different ya know Last album had it booming something vicious ya know Wasn't like this growing up they wasn't picking
we might just change a life… or two We are the few that influence the many We never had much Quick to give away plenty Let the goal be to give’em all
live in a mirage The only way by (way by) Is for us to die so I cry Tear in the eye I need that heavy comforting So I know that I will get by Love
Palumbo, Road House & the album got you by the throat Over the ropes, choke, no hope Just toke like a chief does I been dealing with these childish angry
(Hook) I've been dribblin' past 'em obstables like Leo Messi Gotta blood of the Drukpa, Kalay Phabeysh, Excuse me! Drukpa For life, goin' cray cray
a reflection of your heart. That words alone could never capture. When I write a Christmas song, it is almost always born from a moment in my life, inspired by
Dear Tyre I'm so saddened by news of your death. It's not fair that you were taken away from your family in such a brutal and senseless way. You
po' to high, low ride Like George Lopez's old fries, was when TV turned off with low lights Now I got no life, besides what I do in my music I'm doing
probably like, damn, yo "Why little Bobby didn't come to school today?" On the real, I was doin' anything to run away And that's the same reason kids
Just look at George Floyd look at Emmett They slaughter kids Father to my lil boy he got the right to live The Judging by the skin They wildin out
ass honky got them birds flying south Like George Jung wit some gold fronts Watch me turn my tour bus to a foursome Man I need me a Penelope People
and sirens, niggas open fire Bunch of Thug Life niggas on the rise, until I die Ask me why I'm a boss player gettin' high And when I'm rollin' by niggas can't
Rest in peace George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor And all the other beautiful black souls lost at the hands Of police brutality Oh I can't
a good thing that it rain When you really fucked up Just know life finds a way Wrap my mind around this situation Always find a way Thought I wasn't makin'
I stopped and dropped and rolled away They tried to chase but no luck today Run away, listening to the words they say because I feel the same I'm not
(say what, say what) No justice, no peace (can't here y'all) No justice, no peace (a little louder) No justice, no peace (can't hear y'all) No
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