Lyrics:
Freeing the damned by being free as I am
And speaking belief into people sittin' with reason to stand
Who just might be needing a hand
I got you
9th
time by
Or a leader who falls and you ask why
I ask why we're here
And you are gone
You are gone
And that's a story I can't write
A story I can't write
Come on everybody you've got to lend a hand
Because we can't do it all by ourselves!
You can read between the lines or sit on the fence
But that
Come on everybody you've got to lend a hand
Because we can't do it all by ourselves!
You can read between the lines or sit on the fence
But that
Why don't we write another song and begin another day
Why can't we find another way
Don't we need a second chance, can't we find a place to dance
Why
the flame
We'll burn it on both ends, we're hoping and praying for rain
Yeah, I'd settle on a bed of rusty nails instead of roses
'Cause a song by any
do do do, do do)
I can floss my own bling bling (Do do do do, do do)
Write the the words to the songs I sing (Do do do do, do do)
I can even raise
Couple deeds I ain't write on my sleeve
Reason I'm out here and feeling like prince
Look at my tint, look at my lense
All I see purple rain it's on me
When
claimin' that you're dykin'
But in 9-4, it's show and tell
Keep doin' what ya doin' and go on, girl
[You go girl]
[Tell em brother!]
[Tell em
I cannot record too loud
My finace is asleep
I was hoping I could write a song
And keep her for a week
If I get too loud out here
She might wake up
nigga, I only pull strings
Just be 100 with me, Baby take it slow for me
Please don't mention no to me, I just wanna get along with you
Maybe write a song
I was raised by a maid who came from Martinique
She wore geckos round her neck and bracelets on her feet
A superstitious woman from the land
Fresh prince with Bel-Air before Geoffrey
Zoning, the We The Best headphones on heavy
I’m too hot, it’s that boom bap
Doug E Fresh at the rooftop
Don’t be
Oh little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see the lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by;
Yet in thy dark streets
They want to make it seem like YOU'RE WRONG
for writin the reality song
(Don't touch those issues, don't talk about dat
We don't take knowledge rap)
Usually, I make a weed song
So it goes, a weed song
Usually, I make a weed song
So it goes, a weed song
Forty-one, forty-two
Forty-three,
We find our songs
In fashion magazines
We read the story
In the morning paper
I touch their hearts
And they touch my skin
I'm on your screen
Words and music by Bob Hartman
Based on Philippians 2:9-10
Some men called Him Rabbi, good teacher, nothing more
The Son of just a carpenter who
sunrise made me write a country song
'Cuz Daddy was a preacher, Momma made due
Five boys and a girl, what we put 'em through
Mmmmhmmm
They taught us right
And forever grateful for direction
While I write this fantasy in song so at least you know how I wanted it to go
Moonlit we all look the same
Your signals
bald men
Decided to write songs to teach Mouseketeers to sing
I stick Britney Spears in a room full of mirrors
So she gets fifty years of bad luck
the world pray for
Their prince charming, beauty love, love anyone else
When you feel alone, if you are alone
Sing along to this song
Sing along to this
be, my nigga!
Six thousand and seven hundred degrees, my river!
Ate a earregular mind state, but it fried N9ne's liver, huh?!
Earregular, we
tenure as music director
Fo the Boston Symphony Orchestra from 1923-49
(9) Annie's cousin Fanny was a sweetie of
Mine: Is a song by Glenn
Miller
Discuss these we write the songs by 9th prince Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In