Lyrics:
ain't never know
Martin Luther the King
Most of us probably couldn't tell
You much about a dream
We like Malcolm X, cause Spike made the movie
And we saw
the presence of angel why cry?
Smiles and cries on my way to heaven
You are the gold seed 4th downs the line
Your picture is kept close by my side
Ask me
answer
Allways by your side
Lift your eyes to the heavens
Your face to the sky
Oh troubled heart look up ahead
Your victory is near
Victory is near
In
On the story of heaven on the hysteria of land
Populated by the peoples
Who surrounded the fertility god of Seneca land
The man and the raga
Brewed up a life
angel baby
My girl, not a minute goes by when she ain't looking pretty
My girl, a twenty four-seven piece of heaven
God never made another in this
Trouble world, trouble child
Trouble times destroyed my smile
No change of heart, no change of mind
You can take what's yours but you gon' leave
Verse 1 (Scarface)
Up early in the morning,
Waken by the sound of my cell phone,
Donny hathaway singing on the ringtone.
Was a homie that I went
hair
Heavens open for Christmas
Soul filled with bliss
We are all fascinated by adventures
Dream like a child, love like a young
Take care it's like
children go to heaven.
I gave her a push, I gave her a shove.
I pushed with all my might, I pushed with all my love.
I through my child into
let go,
With a cold lonesome rain.
My mom smiled, said: "Don't be sad child.
"Grandma's watching you today."
"'Cos there's holes in the floor
relationship a fake, or real as the heavens be?
See I got to question it all; family, friends, fans, cats, dogs
Trees, plants, grass, how the wind blow,
alive, the dark is burning
Chains of fire- we're bound by love my wanton child
Chains of fire- burn in love with me
Chains of fire, chains of fire
Let
Heaven must be missin' an angel
Missin' one angel, child, 'cause you're here with me right now
Your love is heavenly, baby
Heavenly to me, baby
kisses
And no daddy's smile
Nobody wants me
I'm nobody's child
Some people come for children
And take them for their own
And they all seem to pass me by
all seem to pass me by
And I am left alone
I know they'd like to take me
But when they see I'm blind
They always take some other child
And I am
a red rose unkissed by the dew
Then you've seen a picture of me without you
Can you picture Heaven with no angels singing
Or a quiet Sunday morning
produce tears
As a child he had cried as all children will
Then at some point his tear ducts ran dry
He grew to be a man, the feces hit the fan
Things got
produce tears
As a child he had cried as all children will
Then at some point, his tear ducts ran dry
Grew to be a man, it all hit the fan
Things got bad
When I was a child my family would travel
Down to Western Kentucky where my parents were born
And there's a backwards old town that's often
all.
I was a child, oh, about three or four.
All day I'd ask questions.
At night I'd ask more.
But whenever; she never, would ever, turn me away.
I'd
Yeah
Cut it up, gimme a light
Yeah, and by the way, nigga
It's Young Mula
First Lady
Uh, yo, yo
Let us begin with a bad lil' specimen
I'm tired of livin' in this private prison
Instead of livin' every moment as a child forgiven
No longer bound as a slave by the chains of my shame
to knuck if they buck
I am LL's I need love and mama said knock you out
I am Martin's dream and Malcolm's by any means
I am part lover part wish a nigga
The fool said with his heart that there is no God
But, father
Don't be corrupted by those who want to destroy you and take your blood
God looks
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