Lyrics:
mother every father
Raise your sons and your daughters
With respect and with honor
From the seed comes a fruit
It's an unbroken circle
All of life is
to the poor kids
No support in they home so they get it on they own risk.
Gotta bad picture of what love is
All the wrath trickled down through the strugglin'
Narrator
This they did and made the most of it
Tore his coat and flung him in pit
Brothers
Let us leave him here,
All alone, and he's bound to die
All the way down
She went all the way, all the way
She showed me love a hundred ways
How she pimped and how she paid
All the daughters, all
hint a worse in either. Her own son
Was silent, tho' he often look'd his wish
But evermore the daughter prest upon her
To wed the man so dear to all
still movin'
Like, "Nigga, this my daughter, tell me what we doin'"
I can't see it comin' down my eyes
So I make somebody son cry
I can't see it
Who the Son sets free
Who the Son set free
Who the Son sets free
Pastor comes with the word
Cast all your cares on Him
For He cares for you
The reason
one
Daughters, children, parents, siblings
We are sons of rage and war
We are one
Daughters, children, parents, siblings
Is that all that we are here
The answer has always been art
This hidden messages of all time
Were made by those who rhyme their spells
The hidden messages are in art that's on your walls
into madness lamenting all the poor souls that fall into its unyielding grip
Here be terror, here be death
For the seven virgins, let the beast be fed
gimme
Uh, uh, uh, uh
I'm automatical, infatical, radical even
I wanna clear all the misconceptions and shit ya believe in
I'm leavin' nothin'
of anything evil committed by him
The wife of the governor said, Now the truth is clear to all
It was I who sought to seduce him, and he is surely
I'm the powerless slave working for an hourly wage
As soon as I'm paid it's gone, ain't no salary saved
I battle with rage, a rat in a maze, trapped
You say that blood is thicker than the water
But I've seen that the water's just fine
You say we've never been good sons and daughters to you
No not
whoever takes my thunder
Sully my name
Y'all fight about subs and dubs
Bruv, I studied the blade
Choppin em down by the nape of their neck
Rocking a crowd
Kids, kids unborn yet
My sons and my daughters
Don't cry
Don't you cry
Your tears twist my face
Tear my soul, break my heart
Don't cry
Don't you cry
Kids, kids unborn yet
My sons and my daughters
Don't cry
Don't you cry
Your tears twist my face
Tear my soul, break my heart
Don't cry
Don't you cry
("--what I tell you.")
[...]
Here today now and dipped in the water
Making love to every poor daughter's son
Isn't it fun?
"Doctor is coming," the nurse
known at the time for hits from Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam and they had this massive hit by the Backstreet Boys, All I Have To Give. Every so often I rip him
Mothers, daughters, fathers, sons
It's about to be a joyous one
It's Christmas Day, yeah
(And I'm so excited)
I'm so excited to open gifts
(To open all
thank God for it all
I thank God for everything
That He gave me in this life
So I pray some more
Even if I live poor
You gotta give thanks to God
That's
To where poor Utah lay
With a thousand wounds and bruises
His life blood ebbed away
I knelt down close beside him
And I knew that all was o'er
As I heard
power and the wealth is so petty
Cause its the powerless peoples filling pockets with pennies
Pedaling c-notes while improperly spending
On property while
All bout the money tryna stack it like a Chore
Tryna make it before my Daughter even turned 4
Ain't just speaking on some hood shit
It's on some we was
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