Lyrics:
delay
But, no dey rush am for me
Sweet pass ma rosay
Med) nti wob3bo oo
Darling you should let me
Aahhhh ( baby you should know)
Ahhhhhhby (by now you
A lonely mother gazing out of the window
Staring at her son that she just can't touch
If at any time he's in a jam, she'll be by his side
But he
sugar cubes saturated with LSD.
We hear Brian and his fellow travelers observing their gradual transformation.
Brian has been amusing his friends by
Bed of Rose:
Oh yeah, oh yeah
Life is not a bed of rose
If it was for some I wouldn't wear a suite a clothes
They so wicked and brutal, fight me
pulling up
Like A bartender I'm pouring up more lines it ain't enough
All these guns ain't gone fit up in that car so we in trucks
This shit so wicked I got
feeling weak
And by the end of the week
It's seems like we've lost the motivation
Is there redemption for the lost and the wicked?
I just wanna spread my
still talk about us when we've died
The end
Is just a little harder when brought about by friends
For all you care, this wine could be my blood
For
the prickly stars
They are relentless in their beauty
And stinging at my heart
I cannot listen to the wind blow
Through the wicked trees tonight
Lord let me
and guilty nation
Surrounded by their sin
Would not allow their hearts to see
To let the Savior in
c blind and guilty nation (3 times)
He stood before
you
(Caught me by surprise)
Wake up late, smoke a tree
Contemplate life by three
Set, wash, rinse, repeat
Tryna figure out who to be
Put on my family
I'm lethal
Shrapnel from assaults, huh-whah, no get backs, no sequels
Holy oil on my head so I don't see you
Wicked is my thoughts they project the evil
Flesh keepin it wicked kickin em up bitch flippin his
tongue hit em up now heæ?¯ so deadly then if he want some come get hung
Iæ?¦ gonna get wicked
of a river bed A house
boat tied to a big tall tree A home for my poppa and
my momma and me The clock strikes three Poppa jumps
to his fee Already Moma's
Supreme talks about his baby's mother like a whore. Sweet 16 she is, with future uncertain, love incomplete. Soapy days for Jr. and she. At 3
Concealing the intent of fascists
Resurrect,
Humanity has fallen by the way side
Fuck your theories
We are the way we are
The violence is out
my country way I'm gonna shout and say
"They shot Brother Rasta Dead"
Rudy left for the City
But three days later
Washed back by the Tide
Mum
forward
Beat the beat up like it stole from me
A whole hunnid
I leave Chad wicked by a couple bows man
Have em looking like venison meat
Oh dear they're not
gettem
Three Two Eight Five One Four Two Nine
Gratitude in mind unwind good fortune by design
Feel the gratitude
Feel the gratitude rise up to the altitude
on the wall with my secret eyes
Taking it in, try to be feminine
With my makeup bag watching all the sin
Misfit, I sit, lit up, wicked
Everybody else
they say, no rest for the wicked
I guess we'll both die awake
But the odds were fixed
It was a game
I took a risk
You took his name
The chapel that
You are just
A few plums
Short of a fruit pie
You make your
Yourself cry
Oh what a surprise
Come to my
My picnic
We'll sit by the lake
We meet at
3
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What I Was Like
from The Parts Interior by Briget Boyle
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00:00 / 03:07
Digital
The Diplomats
Written by Max Martin swinging with the whiffle bat
Hear the pistol blast then I hit the track
Running like a Kenyan cause I'm Kenyan (ask my mama)
I stay in my grind
No time for your love, shit
You're just a puppet
Hanging by a string, my nigga
I've meant to cut it
Out with the old one
Your
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