Search results for 'Court Square Data Group'

or erroneous pattern suspicion 
The court is adjourned and a verdict reached without the evidence that reality could ever be shown 

Stop, the group's going

So let's lock this down like
It's supposed to be

It's like the wonder years you
Blink and I appear
From a cloud of smoke I'm like a
Full court press

insurance
Buy some, sell some, archive and trade them
Compromise accounts almost faster than they make them
I'm not in a group or a crew or a clique
Just

consorting court, Madison Square Gardens, my Aston Martin, push to start, backed in valet parking
Fashion carpets, photo shoots of my group getting started,

After the Revolution

David Rovics

For the Moment

A million innocent people
Lit up in the springtime air
And Mumia and Leonard and Sarah Jane Olson
Took a walk in Tompkins Square
And they talked about

brain
We wake up for a sec they
Rock us back to sleep
Quantify our habit's feed the
Data to the beast pull strings
Turn the public square into a circus

How the fuck she fuck my whole group, but she not a groupie?
I'm takin' care the fam off of rap, but I ain't write no music
Tell that bitch to get

Showdown

E-A-Ski

Showdown

1997

comin raw, 'cause I'm hungry 
Don't sweat the industry 'cause no company are gonna own me 
That's why I stand my own ground 
and square off who ever

Inside the life of a Schneider, my microphone's a Hadron Collider
Give me some space, I'm a TIE fighter Give me that data like a service provider

drop a song
Everyday excuse I dey settle matter for court
Me kura me fon na me counti me loss
Use to be on twitter trending number 1
But now I’m in a box

biz like a mafia?
You're a corporation
Running your little operation
A corp that's seen as a person in court
Making it impossible slam the door
For good

flew
Russian cuts all in a group, Like I collude
Empires they fall, no court, was never caught
A few shots flew over my shoulders I brushed em off
All

And we got the best dro,
Smoking with the best hoes
Land of the pimps and playas,
Never really been a square
Bitch you catch me everywhere
Something like

my crimes I've hid
Not in the sense of a legal court, more from my judgment tarot ward
When I'm not fool or hermit, empresses what for I'm searching

can't control (what)
Problem

That Ambien in my ink pen
Move the brown squares like Wheat Thins
Y'all five days and a weekend
Stay smokin' on that