Lyrics:
England, that's what I named my son: Knight
He was born to be one, that's how my game was won
White 740 Beamer, licked by an angel's tongue
I'm livin'
We been poppin', poppin', poppin' on the scene (Get that shit by any means)
We been poppin', poppin', poppin' on the scene (Get that shit by any
I’m still
Gettin hi by myself every day to numb the pain
Gettin by just enough to justify it in my brain
I’ll be fine I don’t need help even tho I
to run
Here we are at the picket line
for the dreams we lost, the wasted time
And run girl run
Keep fighting for them one by one
Here we stand for
always end up crying
When I do it feels like dying
Please know that I'm not lying
Dark thoughts introduced by perceived intention
Conclusions drawn
thought life is worthless
Until you showed me who I am
Not here by mistake
No luck, only grace
I'm on my way to
Who I am (not who I was), I am (forgiven
Shades are rising above my head
Voices whisper a name
A coat of ice is covering me
A breath of decay drifts away
"The soil is your father, don't
with sancocho
That mashed up plantain mofongo
That arroz chicken and pollo
I pour libations in soil
It's three leches and Goya
It's the leftovers in
The light retracts
Unforgiving and black
I see the face of destruction
Our soil never settles
Our conscience never clean
Our prayers are nothing but
Empty
The court is risen
From the bowels of a wilted village flooded in quarrel
Beneath the trees breathes the blood pact to reclaim our soil
the soil from which they came
Guard each galant warriors claim
I am the soil from which they came
Westwind with your splendure
Take my sisters by the hand
cut that should be a scar by now
I need the hope I always tell my friends about
I need the hope I always tell my friends about
I sleep with
Shades are rising above my head
Voices whisper a name
A coat of ice is covering me
A breath of decay drifts away
"The soil is your father, don't try
Tales of wisdom and of majesty
Where the clouds are just like human beings
Kill the fear dipping your souls into soil
All these red suns come and go
Drowning in fire where it never rains
Burning desire has all the waters drained
Waves of the flood leave the world in flames
Soil's boiling blood
This barren wasteland, your utopia has died
Consumed by greed and lust
This is our final absolution, erased and burnt
This barren wasteland,
rebuked by an olfactory assault
Alveoli and ordure forcefully gestalt
Uvula encrusted with night-soil
Crepitous taste
Treading stool, exhausted by the toil
Ride from overseas but that's basic
Wasted high on the West Side Highway
Drunk enough to fuck with, face it
Hangovers, leftovers in the Range Rover
to you in barrels if you order it by post
(It comes to you in barrels if you order it by post)
For dinner on my birthday shall I tell you what I chose?
I buried him down by the river
'Cause that's where he liked to be
And every night when the moon is high
I go there and weep openly
He and I
Driven out by thieves,
I watch them pillage the planet
fuelled by a fattening greed,
trees fall to the hatchet
chopping against the grain,
our
man
The low ebb of the rocky soil
The high tide of the trees
The dust of men and thunderstorms
The parched and rolling sea
He's running through
that
They don't want the soil, just the oil that's beneath that
Back to feed the people, fuck your pity and your feedback
Racin' with time, it's
snakes, they will be dead
Tears of joy run down my cheek onto the soil
I would trick off on your bitch but she ain't loyal
Nothin' but love for you
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