Lyrics:
are
But they're happy that they have made it this far
To the driveway with a bunch of cop cars
From raccoon City hell yeah it is the Stars
Chris
cabron?
The braceros are asking in whispers,
Why the truck stopped in the heat of the day?
At first sign of trouble, he's left us all there
By
you mean by that?
That is not an answer
You're deep in trouble, friend
Someone: Christ, king of the Jews
How can someone in your state be
So cool about
some trouble
Mr. Maker, but don't turn away from your screen
At least the bubble that we've created has made for damn good TV
Oh, Mr. Man upstairs
by
Is like my day turn to night
You don't know how
How I feel inside
When you went so far
Make my mood swing yeah
Making man jogor
Making man jogor
is not tuesday morning
'till nick has his talk with his son
Thursday night is not thursday night
'till chris has sex with his bass
Come
to go way back to the bottom, what?
Man, what the hell is y'all talkin' 'bout?
I been in the house all night
I don't know nothing 'bout that shit,
a lullaby in ragtime
You can tell the sandman is on his way
By the way that they play
As still as the trill of a thrush
In a twilight hush
So you
bound man
The trouble with the trouble that I find
Is my freedom will soon be out of time
The lawman and the judges they don't seem to understand
These
pouring out your hair
Nigga, any-fucking-time, nigga, any-fucking-where
"Make 'em bleed" is the motto that I live by
If you fuck with me, it's a must,
fear no man but God and do a lot of frontin'
And I'm here to tell the world that pain is lovin'
Like when I die I hope it rains
'Cause if it does,
to call me narrow-minded
'Cause I'm not loose and indiscreet
But people lying down always get blinded
By people standing on their own two feet
Life is
And parting is grief
And a false-hearted lover
Is worse than a thief
On top of old Smokey
All covered with snow
I lost my true lover
By courting so slow
choice
And listen to this straight-up man before they ban the voice
While I rhyme to the rhythm of a pop
Remember the first nigga to run is the first
is for
He examines all the contours
Then he's taking out the core
Now he's taking out the trash
And he's cleaning up the floor
Connor's seven eighty
the time
Livin by Murphy's Law
Tryin to have it all
Running from instant karma
Every man's bound to fall
Life is short, the grind is long
Some of my
life
The soundtrack to my life
I was close to go and trying some coke
And a happy ending would be slitting my throat
Ignorance the cope man
Ignorance is
courting's a pleasure and
Parting is grief
And a false hearted lover is
Worse than a thief
On top of Old Smokey, all covered with snow
I lost my true lover by
And I know that Chris Reeves song was recorded in 2004 for Encore (yeah)
Fuck'd you take it off for?
'Cause he died
Man, that motherfucker did that
Some people say a man is made out of mud
A poor man's made out of muscle and blood
Muscle and blood and skin and bones
A mind that's a-weak
so poorly
What have I gone and done
Makes me troubles double with his worries
When surely I ain't deserving of none
Moanin' low
My sweet man is
Some people say a man's made outta mud a poor man's made outta muscle and blood
Muscle and blood and skin and bones a mind that's weak and a back
come up hard, baby, but now I'm fine
I'm checking trouble
Sure moving down the line
I come up hard, baby, but that's OK
Because Trouble Man don't get in
a leader is trouble for the system we are all accustomed to.
Being a leader in this day and age is being a threat.
Not many people stood up against
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