Lyrics:
spread on the bedspread, red on the wall
Red on the ceilin', red on the floor, get a new whore
Met on the second, wed on the third
Then she's dead
man that passes by
He can have a drink and remember I
Being on the twenty-third of June
Oh as I sat weaving all at my loom
Being
A carnival, a flesh farewell
Hiessens rising from the, from the dead
"Wyman-Elvis," calls our gurrel
And counts the ash to where, to where he bled
about her past
Her ass be looking good inside the leggings
But I notice that she missing all her edges
I run the game just by running with the felons
"In world news today: officials agree that rapper Brad Jordan, alias
Scarface, must be stopped
After being monitored by Secret Service agents for
spread on the bedspread, red on the wall
Red on the ceilin', red on the floor, get a new whore
Met on the second, wed on the third
Then she's dead
Well a man walked down by Galilee so the Holy Book does say
And a great multitude was gathered there without a thing to eat for days
Up stepped
Well a man walked down by Galilee so the Holy Book does say
And a great multitude was gathered there without a thing to eat for days
Up stepped
Third Degree (Words & Music by Rory Flynn)
Chorus
What's with the third
What's with the third degree x2
Bridge
I said I was sorry
Isn't that
Well a man walked down by Galilee so the Holy Book does say
And a great multitude was gathered there without a thing to eat for days
Up stepped
the war is through
The second letter I got from him
The war was just ahead
The third one, wrote by his captain
My darling dear was dead
I'll keep all
Candyman, farewell to the flesh
Death come, in the scripture, two-thousand one
Bring the rap arma-gedde-on, let it be known
When you walk up in this Dead
here havin' his way
And like the third Migo, I take
(Bitch, what?)
Load up the Drac'
What else are they gonna play?
It's however niggas wan' take
and I'm cuckoo eh?" Well, screw you
And I'll be the third person who screwed you today
Oh, fourth; Dre, Drake, Lupe, ooh touché
But you're too two-faced
it back in the sack
You've got a lot of things on your list
And you better straighten up your act
'Cause if you ain't a good girl by Christmas
Hey,
suffered was crucified, buried, and dead
He descended into hell and on the third day, rose again
He ascended into Heaven where He sits at God's mighty
to get away?
All those nights when you've got no lights,
The check is in the mail;
And your little angel
Hung the cat up by its tail;
And your third
rise
Second day the sun is high
Third day Stella cries
'Cause night time's dark as a dead man's eyes
Lord
Tell me when help is gonna come
Stella
a knife by my bed (knife by my bed)
I'm so paranoid, I'ma sleep when I'm dead (when I'm dead)
I'm so paranoid, I'ma sleep when I'm dead
I cut off all
behind the coaches
Come take a trip on my lair by the Third Coast
Come floatin'
La di, da, di, da, di, all the kids shout at the party (and the kids
tone and that third trombone has to go
The man could not be deafer, so please, preferably one who plays in tune"
"Dear Firmin, vis a vis my opera
I know I may act stubborn boy
But that don't mean I don't love you boy
Please forgive me for my attitude
When it seems like I'm taking all my shit
call me classless, I heard that, I second and third that
Don't know what the fuck I'd doing if it weren't rap
Probably be a giant turd-sack
But I
This is a song by the late, great Rich Mullins
I believe in
Believe
I believe in
Yeah, yeah
I believe in God the Father
Almighty Maker
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