Lyrics:
the reason why
the smoke be comin up out the chow, with my nigga Pac
Dear God, can you forgive me? My future's lookin sick
I'm in my rag hittin switches
it can't deny it in the tiots was a looter
Used to hang with drive by shooters, stick 'em up for Honda scooters
Never was a scholar, make you throw
of his host He cast them into the sea,
The floods went up; and in the depths their chariots sank like stones.
Your hand shows Your glorious power to crush
of the medicine will always say you're looking sick
I came to you, and you to me
And we would wear up to the women washing in the form of white gloves
But
Bliss Music (admin. by EMI Christian Music Publishing)/ ASCAP
It Is You
As we lift up our hands
Will you meet us
My heart is dark
My hands are stained
My righteousness looks like filthy rags
My feet have wandered far astray
Lost is the sweet innocence I had
How
They say her work is never done
It can't be easy for the one
Who's always been
Right where you went
To find her
With busy hands and watchful eye
to be found
An eye for an eye
Pound for pound
Blown up yet minimal
Built up by criminal hands
To the republic, it's sick
For which it stands
Right about the time
That I gave up hope
Felt a weathered hand on my shoulder
When I thought there was nobody 'round
Just about then
Before it all
the midnight hooker dressed up in drag
(Chorus)
Chase the shrinking dollar that slips through your hand
Whou0027s that freaky guy who says heu0027s
outside, the bitch up just like a actress
I take ya motherfuckers one-by-one and show ya how it's done
And dick ya down in front of everyone
Bitch
A lonely whisper
Or a thousand screams
Won’t change the picture
In the frame I see
I walk a path
Cut by the moon
The words you’re speaking
Don’t fit
In the depths of the strangled marshes, this cruel mistress he calls home
There lives a recluse beggar, he's just brown rags over bone
His crooked
Saddle up, buttercup, my rodeo-man
Boho maiden, dandelion, my soul sister
Ruffled rags, sticky jacks, my fabricated mojo
Hickory timber, ginger, my
always have Christ that we can hold on to
And in the hands of our Father up above
You could never be more loved
How could I ask for what You've given
My
on
You hear that fat lady warmin' up?
The end came without a warning, huh?
Them niggas real with them rags on
Niggas get killed 'bout them flags, homes
Whirl down the wynd like dervish-berserkers;
If life hands us lemons; we'll make lemonade.
Maybe Jay's smashed (?), drumming up passion;
Scarring
and costly
I'll cast my writing hand
And send it with a letter and a plan
You can write my poems
I'll write your replies
Let's see how I like it
Being second
waving grasses
Sister stumbled in the brier
And was bitten by a snake
Every creature casts a shadow under the sun's golden finger
But when the sun
of thy sacred light
- to which I never again will bow
When I rise to avenge myself with darkness
The anger of the damned shall flow
I was cast out by
hands on like I'm boxin'
Pull up in that drop-in, ain't no talkin', hop in
What's your other option? That don't even stop shit
I be on some hot shit, I
the dance you taught me
The sacred dance you taught me
I whisper to the nightlight
I call it by your name
It takes my hand and leads me
In the shadow dance
hands, and drinking La Croix
But out maneuvered by their history and past
And always followed by the shadows they cast
Still I'm better now that I'm left
servant Son
I was weighed down by my past He lifted up all of my burdens
Telling my story to free you from bondage and all of the hurting
Yeah Yeah Yeah
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