Lyrics:
lovable
And I'm capable
But yo, what if we got the alphabet rockers
Your intelligence got me awestruck
And the capacity is mental
Your self-confidence is
hands and now he's screaming, whoa, whoa
Cause they don't want no smoke with us
Standard mags on every gun nigga, it's still a hundred plus
Niggas
that you feelin' me
You wish you was killin' me, lay on your bed with my picture sitting where your ceiling is
I got my lyrics on point, if you bite you
save us from your radio
Cuz these hip hop pop punk rock kids got no soul
Either way we’re proud to welcome back the star of the show
So put your hands
hands together for Mr. Rock n Roll
Save me
Love me till the day I die take me to the mountain high
Baby
Guide me through the great divide and lay me
I'll lay it all down just
To worship you
I'll worship you
Worship you
Let me count my days
By how I worship you
Caught up in your presence
Lord, I'll
as one
We will overcome, overcome
Allah let me lay in your arms
Hold me like a newborn, sing to me the most sweetest songs
The exalted, the most
smell the perfume
Throwin' tear gas on us per fume
Why am I perceived as a goon
Why can't no one see that your heart is a moon
White fuckin' rock sellin'
an' spread us out (mhm)
Dry us in the sand (mhm)
Lay the fibers side by side (mhm)
And you'll begin to understand (mhm)
I know it's over
I was
a threat that's growin with ya, step from the hills to the best
I prove that I'm witty by usin my mind
I spit from my heart so you don't confuse me with
The extorter bring slaughter like
"Well I oughta"
I suggest you hand over the formula doula
A villain in your land, in his land a ruler
Hard hitting like puffing
the waist
Open your eyes muthafucka, you got thunder to face
Fuck rest, we gon' lay these muthafuckas to waste
You bit the pully nigga tell me, how the fuck
Smooth Chance The Rapper
Text move big up
Just know
God got his hand on us
I feel so good about me
Trust this
We good over here
I pray that you're
You can't feel the heat until you hold your hand over the flame
You have to cross the line just to remember where it lays
You won't know your worth
we're all gonna die
You in the back there, you're gonna die
Throw your hands up in the
Front ‘cause you're gonna die
Everybody outside walking by's gonna
Your voice would fill the night
I think of yesterday, I wanna hold you
Your worn out hands don't touch me now
Your words don't mean anything
God help us
ordained we call him brother minister
Wont start nothing but dont think he wont finish ya
Injury ya leave you identified by your dentals
But still speak
line I lay is locking
You a hater, boy, stop your plotting, it'll be your blood we mopping
Talk about that major flavor, keyed up, cut like a razor
yeah yeah
Verse:
And I ain’t worried bout them other bitches
They won’t do nothing for me that’s why it’s fuck them bitches
Your pussy good
And your
that's the mission
They pickin' and pinchin' us up off The streets
Don't mention how fucked up we Tend to be
They school couldn't teach me, I was Pushed
are fasting
We are asking for revival to come in like a flood
Overwhelm us with Your mercy
With Your glory, miracles and infalable proofs
Hands are
her sister nina
Last time niggas seen her
She got trained by a gang full of
Shooters with bar hands and a bitches
But they ain't silence her
All they
like me
Stack it like me
Would'nt like me
Ask Kelly his orignal plan to get us large on that map by making you clap your
hands
Damns you bizotch
I'm not
that shit is weak on the streets
And if you can't strategize then you just can't eat
If your life in another nigga hand, you deaded
And if it's beef
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