Lyrics:
Shepherds, called by angels
Called by love and angels
No place for them but a stable
My Lord has come
Sages, searching for stars
Searching for love
like, talk like, dance like, yet we just stand by
We take all we want from black culture, but will we show up for black lives?
We want to dress like,
diamonds and sage
Left alone in confused forest's, enslaved by days
Time keeps on whoring us
Ghetto saviors can't keep ignoring us
Flowers and flames
the plan
So teach me, Lord, to let go
And learn how to be held by your hands
You are my good good shepherd
And you lead me as I go
Though I am prone
And my brother up in heaven
Hallow by thy name
And if you truly are the Shepherd
Why do they want, destroy
Slaughter all in your name?
Tell me
God,
lines, I'm bout to write a rhyme
If you got a backpack tryin' to act black
Think you know the culture? You's a fuckin' vulture
You never approached
play by the rules, I be finessing the game
100 clips to yo head, we jus' do it clean no trace
Arhn
Deedadeey
Ghetto vigilante
Free my country
Streets
We're gonna fight it till the end and we won't be beat down again
Your culture's fed into our veins, your preaching tyranny and hate
To follow in
Troubles and trials often betray those
On in the weary body to stray
But we shall walk beside the still waters
With the Good Shepherd leading
of God
Heavenly hosts singing songs of our savior
Washing our sins by his glorious favor
Alleluia
Gloria
On this night Jesus was born on Christmas
A star
In 1789 we began our current run
Washington began to lead this nation
No political parties was the mission
By the founders with sky high ambition
by moonlight)
Please will you buy a ticket to my wasted youth
Bridge
Fake Jerry Lorrenzo with no fear of God (for the culture)
This Orange culture
Repose
Flesh of the ground deny
Kneel and grieve
Beseeching to no avail
Myth strikes our being
Human existence
Jaded by it's progress
Feeding,
to think
Erase the useless things
Dying by the fire
A century at wit's end
Fall upon a blade
The Lamplighters are dead again
Culture isn't sick, so dull
we were gone astray
Oh tidings of comfort and joy
From God our Heavenly Father
The blessed angel came
And unto certain shepherds
Brought tidings
sleep
The silent stars go by.
Yet in Thy dark street shineth
The everlasting light
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in Thee tonight.
God
Repose
Flesh of the ground deny
Kneel and grieve
Beseeching to no avail
Myth strikes our being
Human existence
Jaded by it's progress
and on the books
Ripped off, a weak derivative culture
Disposable, nothing's built to last
Whipped dogs, a bleak cognitive future
Ineptitude is reaching critical
shahada
Heart washed as a kid, all clean it is so blessed
Was a shepherd at youth, found his peace with the nature
When he found himself a problem, he
with lines but I don't mean harm
Donest Dinero Honest and pure flow
Better than Pure Coke Gotta be sure tho
You Sure?
It's bout the culture by all means
In a quiet street washed by the rain, the room within the home.
A lonely man sits cheek to cheek, with unique designs in chrome.
The mellow years
In a quiet street washed by the rain, the room within the home.
A lonely man sits cheek to cheek, with unique designs in chrome.
The mellow years
at Bethlehem.
"Where is the new King, shepherd boy piping merrily,
Is he there at Bethlehem?
I will find him soon by the star shining brightly
In the sky o'er
You are my shepherd
I'm not left wanting
You are my all
You lay me in green pastures
Led by still water
Comfort my soul
Oh
Where you are
I will
.jpg/222px-Cybill_Shepherd_(cropped).jpg "Cybill Shepherd")
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