Search results for 'these hands live by jeff deyo' Page #501

my pain and put it in another song
You can go on and let your dreams die
But I ain't stoppin' 'til
Mine gets justified!

Wish I could count on one
Hand

and forget clothes
They obstacles when you up with me
Fuck the police, 'cause it no hand-cuffin' me
All my girls bad, I call 'em detention
By the way they

to live how I'd like?
Is it worth the split in conscience just to sate what's inside?
Is it really still working, this thin, weak facade?
Can I really still

hatred in this house or tattoos
Eat your cashews
Planting seeds inside these raps like capsules or grass food
I'm in a good mood
Surrounded by the day that

to take a bath until
My robot hands are pruned
Then we'll chase after my homey
Who is suddenly seeking Obi
Never tells me anything
I talk too much he told

okay
Make it okay
I'm snorin' all day for dreams uh

Wake up ponderin', damn, my mind is wanderin'
All these opportunities left squandered
In my oxygen

Stories with a twist euphoria and bliss

It's the circle of our lives
You're got young people feeling like
They're 30 when they're five
And old people that

And I've been bitter at the world
Since they cancelled Seinfeld
Leash up the mic with my damsel spike
I got, so I can hump her
Put your hands up if your

to check out my CV
I ain't inna da hype
Man I used to live a different life
Big trips plugin' bit's of white
Niggas think it's sweet now I'm on
The mic, I

Fucking Opposite Day, yeah
My heart beat slower
When we would hold hands in
The back of lawn's mower
The blood pressure going to
My penis got lower

been trynna bring me down though
For all these new It rappers
They be clowns though
And I come from the land where
They don't lend a hand but
Everybody

Chosen to be great
In our hands, your fate
Never too late, too late
To give us your full control
You cant live up to your role
We’ll Make you our clone

Crazy what a grand’ll get these days, a candle-lit
Vigil for a criminal abandoning his sense..
This dude’s a scram, type-bum that’s always falling
In

I ain’t drinking a keg
I ain’t grippin' a tech
I don’t live on the edge
I ain’t a hipster I bet
I’m home watching "Sam & Cat" with my
Hand on my dick

I know it's not a contest
They try to tell me things, it's not changing my mindset
I turned all my anger into writing these concepts
Just so I could

Hooker
Crossed with Dudamel  

Roll over Black Mamba 
Tell Nipsey the news
They're canceling Van Morrison
No more Belfast Blues 
One hand on the wheel

I want to stall, baby are you feeling me?
Track 12, 2014 Forest Hills Drive
Love your life, that's the line that you live by
Love yourz, tatted yo arm

to live in them white ‘burbs
Then we moved to da hood
‘Cuz the cream really curt
So I prayed for some goods
I didn’t wanna hurt 
A n---a for some food
Put

memories won't last
Everything we love and touch
Will go away
Like tears of rain that washed Away the pain
It's so hard to accept all of
These signs
When

of people keep on driving me mad, so I’m away to live in fuzzy old fashioned lands
Won’t you take me by the hand?

I don’t know where, never been there, I

Swallowed up by the whales, we're in the belly
The city's for sale I'm not ready I'm not
Throw down a hand and pull out the scum
Everyone's stood

to say
Here let me stay
Here let me wait
On You

2. Since You are here
Let me offer up my worship
These hands are Yours
What can I do?
O God, my God
Words

it for your momma
Okay
Look at this guy
All up in my lane
He better step aside
Before I show em real pain yeah
I'm chill I'm chill baby
These hands

Can I be caught up in his chains, that's a Cuban
I don't need no fame, they'll do anything to play
I'm not blinded by the smoke, that's that cannabis